Where neither Lark nor Eagle flew
by FrozenTech
Summary: This is the first adventure of the USS Ranger the first of her class, a CVN, or Carrier. I'm aware they're an oddity within Trek, but this is AU and I promise its worth the price of admission. Come take a peek. Rating may change.
1. Opening Gambit

**A/N:** This is an AU story set at some point after the close of the Dominion War but before the events of Nemesis (Which, itself should be struck from Star Trek Canon forever IMHO). Star Trek is the property of Paramount and folk – I'm just borrowing the setting.

The Ranger, her Captain, and her crew (along with a lot of other things in the story) belong to me. If you want to use her – please contact me.

Please enjoy, while this is not my first attempt at Fan Fiction by any stretch of the imagination, this is my first contribution to While there is plenty to start with – I expect to possibly double the current length as I have a fair amount of ideas I would like to cover in this story – I'll likely be somewhat slow in updating. Please R&R – it might help spur me on. Criticism is always welcome. So, without further adieu I present the first adventure of the USS Ranger NCV-1001.

* * *

The solo Eagle class Interdiction Fighter broke orbit as it entered Earth's dayside. Angling away from the planet it headed for the San Francisco Orbital shipyard, named for the city it sat in stationary orbit over. Flying the small craft was the newly minted Captain, Devin O'Connor, his right hand making a minute adjustment to the responsiveness of the ship's attitude thrusters as his left held the fighter on course. He had to admit he loved this little ship, who's designers had grudgingly admitted that a manual control scheme made more sense, at least while flying something as agile as the Eagle, as compared to Starfleet's usual reliance on the LCARs command system. 

Allowing himself a small smile he tapped the 'rudder' pedals at his feet and felt the back end of the fighter wag slightly. It had taken a bit of training undoubtedly to get the pilots of these new craft up to speed with such an archaic flight control system, though for Devin it felt like coming home, and he had to believe that at least for some of them, it had actually been easier to master.

Ahead of him the massive shipyard came into view, large enough to support the refit or keel up construction of four Sovereign class vessels at once, it was only half again as large as the Utopia Planetia yards he'd spent his first years of the fleet in, but still impressive. Two keels were under construction, from a practiced eye, one looked to be a future Intrepid class and the smaller of the two a Norway. His destination however, was on the third ship nestled in it's dry-dock, the newly commissioned USS Ranger, first of the new Ranger class - named, appropriately after the first ship built by the United States Navy specifically as a Carrier.

Like its namesake, the USS Ranger was the Federation's first attempt at building a 'Carrier' class of ships. Various times within the Federations history small 'fighter like' shuttles had been devised, and even carried by the fleet, most notably during the Dominion War, and while they were reasonably successful, the mortality rate was astronomical, and no ship had ever been designed with a fighter squadron's needs in mind.

Thanks to newer shield designs, which were smaller, more efficient versions of the regenerative shield system pioneered on the Sovereign class, a couple of younger Admirals with some new ideas…

And a Starfleet that was beginning to understand that having a few ships in the fleet whose main role was combat in nature, the time had been ripe for the new design. The Ranger class Carrier, designation NCV-1001 was the result. Slightly smaller in overall mass then the Galaxy class, it was an impressive ship to behold. Built with the same 'streamlined' approach as the newest ships in the fleet, it most closely resembled - to some eyes - a gargantuan Intrepid class. However, this was a slight to the engineers who had designed her.

As Devin approached his comms board beeped, Hitting a control on the throttle grip he activated the voice only channel that came over the headset he wore. He remembered the young engineer who'd originally come up with VCom, as it'd been called it back then. It was now seeing wide use in certain parts of the fleet, especially the recently created Fighter Corps. "Frisco control to incoming Eagle Fighter, please state you destination."

Devin chuckled and tapped the headset, he'd left the voice activation feature off, for this flight, "Eagle 555 to Frisco control, this is Captain Devin O'Connor, I'm here for my new boat, assuming you folks are almost done with it." he responded, as he sent his command codes on a piggyback to the voice signal

"Good morning sir. Expected arrival confirmed, your codes check. You're clear through to the Ranger's landing bay, Ranger Control is operational. Contact them for landing clearance."

"Thank you Frisco, hope you don't mind if I take a closer look before I go aboard."

"No sir, the exterior work is complete, worker bee traffic is light, though you'll be on your own for avoidance."

"No problem Frisco, O'Connor out."

Closing the channel Devin throttled the fighter back and overrode the automatic braking thrusters, letting the small craft coast in as he slipped under the Ranger's keel. Swinging the nose around with the rudder pedals he took a close look at the hull as it passed before him, taking a moment to eyeball the two bulges along the lateral sides of the engineering section. Each one housed a fifty meter long magnetically accelerated launch tube, allowing the Ranger to 'fire' twelve fighters a minute from each tube. Each tube was large enough to handle any fighter or shuttle class that was onboard, though only the Eagle class Interceptor, the Hawk class Assault Fighter, and a newly designed Marine Landing Craft, or LC were outfitted to make use of it properly.

This meant that the Ranger could handle both retrieval and launch operations at the same time, without interruption. It was the only ship in the fleet with the ability.

Key to this was the fact that the Ranger's bottom two decks were completely taken up by the 'flight deck' to aft, there was the retrieval and landing section, which mostly resembled a standard shuttlebay, except for the fact that it went almost all the way through the ship. It was also almost twice as wide as any other shuttle bay in the fleet.

Braking the fighter to a stop Devin pitched over and started moving over the dorsal side, taking in the clean lines, and pausing for a moment to admire the name prominently painted on the hull. He'd been following the development of this class since the day he'd caught wind of it. And with his recent promotion to Captain, he had never in his wildest dreams believed they'd give him this ship. She wasn't quite finished yet, but word had found him, despite his vacation, and he'd left on the spot to join his new ship.

Finishing his flyby inspection he tapped the comms board and opened a channel to the Ranger, "Ranger control, this is Eagle 555, requesting permission to land."

"Eagle 555, this is Ranger; we've been expecting you Captain. Commanders Wellington and Nyes have been alerted to your arrival and will meet you on the flightdeck… you're cleared to landing at your leisure as soon as the retrieval bay doors finish opening. Welcome home, sir."

"Thanks control, O'Connor out."

Bringing the nimble fighter in line with the 'retrieval bay' Devin couldn't help but whistle as the massive clamshell doors opened. Knowing the figures in your head, and seeing them in reality was often two very separate and awe inspiring things. As soon as the doors finished their cycle a small green light flashed on in his heads up display, announcing silently that the Ranger had cleared him for landing. Nudging the small craft forward he guided it easily into the bay, stopping at a hover about ten meters inside he lowered the Eagle's landing gear and touched down. Moments later he followed the guidance of young crewman who was carrying a set of wands for directing traffic… yet another throwback to the ancient days of the sea. Following the crewman's directions he nudged his fighter into one of the parking locations, and set the brakes. After running the fighter through the shutdown sequence he hit the canopy release and chuckled at the young head that popped up to help him unstrap, "Easy son, I think I can handle taking off a seatbelt…"

The crewman, the same that had guided him to his parking location gaped as he spotted the four gold circles glinting at his neck, above the color of his flight jacket, "SIR! I… apologize sir."

Devin laughed as he saw the near look of terror on the crewman's face as he seemed to try to decide if he should salute, while standing in the fairly precarious position, perched as he was on the side of the fighter. "Relax Crewman. Look at it this way; it's not every day you get to tell the Captain where to go on his own ship."

Blinking the crewman took a moment to process this then chuckled himself and clambered down, "I'll have to remember that one sir."

"You do that." Rising out of the pilot seat Devin climbed down out of the fighter using the retracting handholds in the side of the fuselage before hopping the last foot or two to the ground. Straightening his leather flight jacket, he noted he'd have to get a patch for the Ranger made up. He had a patch for every other location he'd served at. Striding towards him across the massive flightdeck were two officers in command colors. Even from here Devin could spot the small embroidered wings just below the rank insignia of the one of them. This would be his new First Officer, Commander Caroline Nyes, who had a reputation as a by the book officer, and the ship's CAG, or Commander Air Group, Commander Gary "Griff" Wellington sole survivor and former Commander of the Death Angels one of the most decorated Fighter Groups to see combat in the Dominion War. He was known as an unconventional, but exceptionally talented leader. He was also the only other person currently on the crew roster besides Devin that had been certified in every 'support' craft the Ranger carried.

Devin was glad to have them both. Both Commander's stopped and came to attention a few feet from him. A single nod and both relaxed slightly, "Commanders, good to see you."

"Welcome aboard the Ranger sir… I have to admit you weren't expected quite so soon." Nyes replied, "We're at least a month away from leaving spacedock yet."

"True, but there is work to be done, and if two of my most senior officers are already aboard, I see no reason for me not to be. Especially since the ship still needs to be fully crewed and Department heads need to be found - among other things. Walk with me, if you would."

Both commanders fell in step with Devin one to each side, "So give me the straight word. Commander Wellington, where are my fighter squadrons?"

"Sir, the Rangers design order calls for a minimum of four onboard squadrons. Two squadrons of twelve Eagle class Interdiction Fighters, and two squadrons of twelve Hawk class Assault Fighters six of the Hawks are to be the R models." Wellington growled in response

"I'm aware of the design specs, and also aware that she can easily handle twice that number, if required. What I want to know is where are they?" Devin demanded, quietly.

Wellington's step never faltered, but a bit of the gruffness went out of his voice, replaced by a touch of frustration, "The Wildcards and the Reavers are currently dirtside, finishing up certification trials in the new fighters."

"That's two squadrons… both units I've heard of. Good records both."

"Yes sir… the other two squadrons… are still at Miramar"

That caused Devin to blink; Miramar was the new Starfleet Fighter Corps training base, named after the famous Top Gun school from ancient Earth. "We're getting raw recruits?"

"Well… yes and no, sir."

"Which is it Commander?"

"They're fresh fighter jocks, yes, but each of them has seen combat at the helm of a starship." Nevertheless, Wellington didn't sound overly happy with the prospect.

"What about squadron commanders?" Devin asked, looking over at his CAG

"Not picked yet. The brass intends to name the best pilots out of the group to the post." Wellington sounded even less happy about this.

"Negative. Bloodied in combat or not, we're not doing that. Commander, write up promotion recommendations for the ASC's from the Reavers and the Wildcards. They're to be transferred to the new squadrons as Squadron Commanders, rank and grade will stay the same for a moment. One pilot from each of the new squadrons will fill the open slot in the 'Cards and Reaver's flight roster. The Squadron commanders can name their new second at their discretion."

"The brass might not like that sir." Even so, from the corner of his eye, Devin could tell Wellington looked a good deal happier

"You let me deal with the brass. They gave me this ship; they better understand I intend to run it, my way." Devin paused to let that sink in, then continued "Get to it Commander, I want the necessary paperwork on my desk by 1700 ships time."

"Aye SIR." Splitting off Wellington headed for the nearest turbolift as Devin and Commander Nyes continued down the length of the flight deck, passing the second emergency clamshell door, designed to close if the outer door, and the magcon fields failed, and the flightdeck depressurized.

"Alright Commander, it's your turn. From your reputation I assume you already have a recommendation list for Department heads." Devin said, looking sideways at his new First Officer as they passed by a pair of Argo class shuttles and two of the Marine LCs. Four worker bees hung from an overhead rack.

If the Commander was taken aback by the statement, she didn't show it. "Aye sir, I have compiled a short list. I was just about to transmit it to Starfleet Command to have it routed to you, actually."

"Well then, why don't you drop it by my Ready Room, about 1500?"

"I'll do that."

"Good." Steering them toward the next turbolift, as he had already decided he could tour the rest of the flightdeck at his leisure, later, "What about our marine detachment?"

"Coming aboard in two weeks, they're currently at Utopia Planetia using the stripped out hulk of a Constitution Class for breach training. The LC pilots, marines themselves, are with them training up on contact and breach procedures." Nyes replied.

"Alright, is Major Bill Maddock still in command?" Devin enquired

"Aye sir."

"Excellent, how does the timetable look?"

"Final construction should be finished by the end of the month sir, then we start a rather lengthy round of tests before the first shakedown cruise, which is scheduled about two months from now… if all goes well we should be declared space worthy shortly there after."

"Sounds about like the schedule Command provided." Pausing as they stepped into the turbolift Devin addressed the computer, "Bridge…." and then waited until the lift started moving before continuing, "So, what are your concerns Commander?"

"Well sir, it seems like the repple depple is dragging its heels, I know we haven't determined Department heads, but we're going to need a full staff on hand, and soon. Department heads should be picked and brought aboard within the next two weeks. They need to get the lay of the land before their major staffs start to arrive. There's a lot to learn about this boat…. and I don't want to be under crewed." Nyes paused, seeming to consider something

Devin frowned, "Out with it commander" he said as they stepped onto the bridge, work here had been mostly completed, and a single ensign wearing the orange of Operations stood watch, lounging in the Captain's chair, apparently lost in a daydream.

"I… well, I get the feeling some in the fleet want us to fail, sir."

"Probably do." Devin nodded, fighters were not popular at headquarters, but here they were. At that the Ensign looked over and hopped up with a start

"Sir! Ensign Ellen Cormack reporting sir… all's quiet since you came onboard sir."

Devin chuckled, "At ease Ensign." he recognized the voice of 'Ranger Control' at once, "Continue as you were… but don't get too comfortable in that chair, I'm going to want it eventually."

Looking slightly embarrassed, the Ensign nodded, "Aye sir."

Taking a moment to admire the lines of the bridge, similar in structure though notably different then the Galaxy class bridge he'd spent so much time on, first as an Operations Officer, then eventually as a First officer. Finally looking back at the Commander, "Well then Commander, I'm sure there are things you need attending to. I'm going to get acquainted with my Ready room, should something need my assistance."

"Aye sir," Commander Nyes spun on her heel and headed for the turbolift.

With one last look around the bridge of his first command Devin smiled at the young Ensign who still watched him, uncertain of how to proceed in the face of her Commanding Officer. Heading for his ready room Devin looked back over his shoulder, "The Bridge is yours Ensign Cormack." as the doors to his ready room slid open, and he headed inside.


	2. Senior Staff

Weeks passed quickly as the Ranger was prepared for her shakedown cruise. The passageways slowly filled with crew as the ship started to take on life. This morning found the Captain sipping coffee as he skimmed department reports. Things seemed to be coming along with relatively few hiccups as he prepared for his first official department head meeting. He'd met with each department head repeatedly in the past two weeks as they came aboard and began taking over control of their departments. His department head roster was bigger then any other ship in the fleet – as more then a few departments had to be created from what was normally under a single head on most ships. That just hadn't been an option here.

They were all about to find out though, that despite their own little fiefdoms, this ship belonged to the captain, and they – to a man were under his command.

The door chime broke his reverie, glancing up he took a sip of coffee, "Enter."

Commander Nyes stepped through the door and glanced around the office she was becoming somewhat familiar with. The Captain had finished his decorating shortly after he had come aboard, and she had to admit that she liked it – even if it was a bit Spartan, the lithographs of the ships the man had served on graced one wall, and were balanced on the other by lithographs of famous ocean going carriers of Earth's past – and the fighter craft they carried. Finally, behind him was a lithograph of the Ranger, and her first two certified fighter types.

It was the Captain's only decoration, and it fit him rather well. Well, that and the stainless steel coffee machine he'd had shipped up from his home in Wyoming. While her pallet didn't notice the specific differences between a fresh brewed cup of coffee and that which came out of the replicator, she had to admit it did add a somewhat enticing aroma to the room.

Coming to attention she nodded, "Sir, reporting as requested."

Putting down his mug he rose, "We've had this discussion before Commander, behind this door, formality goes out the airlock. I need you to be willing to talk to me – no matter the situation – even if you think I'm wrong. Out there – I expect you to toe whatever line I have – but here, I want to know what you think and feel. And that means you don't need to come to attention every time you walk in here."

Caroline didn't have an answer to that – the man's relaxed policy flustered her to no end. But he was the captain. "Aye sir." She replied – out of reflex.

"See now? That's what I'm talking about. Don't 'Aye sir' me Caroline. If you must you can continue to refer to me as Captain, but take that durasteel rod out of your ass and sit down. Now, can I get you a mug of coffee?"

Looking all the more flustered at the Captain using her name she sat down slowly – they'd had this conversation at least five times, and she still wasn't quite sure how to deal with it – but she was a new FO, and she'd be surprised to know that once upon a time her Captain had been the same way. After a moment she replied, "Ah, no that's ok sir."

Devin nodded as he expected this was going to take a while for her to learn to relax. "Alright, first departmental meeting is coming up. What are the issues we can expect?"

"Well. Things are progressing rather nicely. I know that Ops is a bit ticked that the flight deck was pulled into a separate department – and I think the Security department is somewhat surprised that the Marines are not considered under their jurisdiction." She thought for a moment, "Other then that, the only major issue is that our nuggets are getting tired of having the tar kicked out of them by the Wildcards and the Reavers in training ops. But both Red and Gold squads are coming together and starting to gel into units."

"They haven't come up with Squadron names yet?" Devin queried, interjecting into the Commander's line of thought.

"Ah, no sir - there were some names nominated – but no decisions have been made." Caroline paused and glanced at the PADD she'd forgotten she was carrying, "Other then that though – I think it'll be a smooth meeting."

Devin grunted, "Good. Pass the word to Commander Wellington that I want Red and Gold squads to come up with monikers before next Monday. It'll be good for morale, and I for one am tired of calling them by colors. That's something you do in flight training – not out in the black." Tapping a couple of keys on the recessed keyboard in his desk he brought up something on his screen, "Our SAR and Salvage teams are coming on board this week, correct?"

"Aye sir, they're the final additions."

"Good. We're still on schedule for shakedown in three weeks then. Our department head meeting starts in ten minutes. Let's go get it out of the way."

Rising he keyed a quick sequence into his console that locked it from prying eyes, and then led the way from his Ready Room, across the bridge and into what had become known as the "Situation room" to the department heads. Instead of the usual conference table layout – the room was dominated by a large rectangular holotable, which could display three dimensional or flat images as well as be used as a systems console. A second screen mounted on the wall completed the look. There were no chairs in the Situation Room – which is why Devin decided to place most of his department meetings there – it kept people on their toes.

There was a second conference room attached to the bridge, just off the primary turbolift – but the Captain had already determined that would be for use with VIPs only.

Stepping into the Situation room he tapped the holotable as he passed, which brought the system up from standby. Turning as he reached the head he tapped in a quick series of commands which brought up a wire diagram of the Ranger. Straightening he sipped his coffee and waited.

* * *

They didn't have to wait long. A couple minutes later the Department heads started to make their way in. The first – unsurprisingly was Commander Wellington – the CAG. He was still wearing a regulation flightsuit and had his flight helmet tucked under his arm. He nodded to the Captain and the First officer and took up his post off to the side of the holotable.

Next was the Ranger's CEO or Chief Engineer – Lieutenant Domino Cortana – a five foot nothing Irish redhead with a reputation that matched her fiery mane. But so far the Captain had no complaints, and her Engineering crew ran like clockwork.

Right behind Cortana was Lieutenant Commander Sol Vertung a Bolian who was the Ranger's CSEC/TAC who ran the boats Security Department, which also handled Tactical on the bridge. While it wasn't common to see a Bolian in Security, his record was excellent and Devin was looking forward to having the man aboard.

A minute or two passed before Major Bill Maddock came in, in full marine uniform – a somewhat jarring change to the normal Starfleet fair. His Marines were pretty much aboard, and while the 'fleeties' were still getting used to the idea, Devin was glad to have them.

Lieutenant Helen Selvin was the ships CMO, and by all accounts an excellent practitioner and a good surgeon.

Commander Terrik, a Vulcan was the head of Operations – he took up a post near the foot of the holotable. Behind him, came the head of the newest ship department – and the woman with perhaps some of the heaviest weight on her shoulders because of that, Lieutenant Commander Kim Tae – a joined trill. She headed up the Flight Ops department. Her two most senior staff, Lieutenants Kel Vance and Igor Ivanovich the senior Airboss and Deckboss respectively followed her in.

Lieutenant JG Rilo Grigs, the Chief Science officer and Lieutenant JG Melissa Fero – the ship's counselor were the last to arrive.

Even so – everyone was on time. As soon as everyone had arrived, the meeting started. Caroline cleared her throat to get everyone's attention.

"Welcome aboard the Ranger everyone. Over the past few weeks we've all spoken and gotten to know each other, but today is the first official department head meeting. I'm glad to see we're all on time – and I know we all have a lot to do yet to get the Ranger launched on time. With that in mind, I'll turn the meeting over to our Captain - Sir?"

As the commander stepped back, Devin stepped to the head of the table and glanced around at his senior staff. "The first thing I need to re-enforce here folks is that you all work for me. This is my boat – and I won't have any inter-departmental tiffs going on. A little rivalry and competition is good for morale – but we're all part of one whole. Let's not forget that. There is no ship without its Captain, but there is no Captain without a crew. And each of you have some of the best and brightest, along with some of the most experienced people in their fields in your command. We all need to work towards the same goal, which is to make the Ranger the most successful first ship of a class in the last century or so. Understood?"

He glanced around the table as his officers as for a moment they all pondered his words, and then as if rehearsed, and as one voice responded, "Aye Captain!"

He grinned, "Good. Now that the usual bull is out of the way – let's get down to business. Engineering, we'll start with you. What have you got for me Domino?"


	3. Flightdeck Shuffle

With just under a week remaining before the Ranger left dry dock – it was now officially time for Devin to make his 'official' inspection tour of the boat – but he'd already come to determine in his time as a First officer and before that as a chief of Ops, if a Captain really wanted to know how his people performed, he watched them work – not inspected everything after it was all spit shined and polished. That was reserved for Admirals. Captains and their crews worked for a living.

To that end Devin had already put in a standing order that the bridge did not need to come to attention when the Captain entered, nor announce his presence, and the same went for all locations on the ship. Normal procedures would be followed on formal occasions, but for day to day operations, the Captain wanted things to continue running smoothly while he wandered his boat. When a VIP was onboard, standing orders might change, but for the time being – it was the way he wanted things run.

So far, the crew was listening.

* * *

Crewman First Class Connie Walsh slammed her open palm against the skin of the Nickel in frustration, as the deck crew had started to call it. It was the Eagle the Captain had brought aboard, and since it was a fighter that had not originally been added to the manifest, it had become the 'Captain's bird', even if he had not flown it since. She had been given the job of Crew Chief on the fighter mainly because all the fighters had a crew chief – and since it was seldom used, it didn't need much work. She was still expected to fully pitch in and help with the rest of the birds on the deck – but she serviced this fighter alone.

And right at the moment she was attempting to tune the lateral stabilizer, but the blasted thing kept dropping just a hair out of alignment and it was driving her batty. Muttering a surprisingly extensive string of curses she reached for her tri-corder only to notice that it had managed to slip just out of arms reach under the fighter's port 'wing'

Still grumbling she was just about to roll over and grab it when a pair of Starfleet issue boots stopped next to the wing, "Hey you! You want to hand me that Tri-corder?"

"Sure crewman" was the response and a moment later the body above the boots bent down and picked up the tri-corder then leaned over and slid it towards Connie. She caught the look of a standard issue flight deck coverall, and a brief glimpse of a man's face she didn't quite recognize before snapping open the tri-corder and passing it over the lateral stab for what felt like the hundredth time. As an afterthought she cast out a "Thanks"

"Anytime, so might I ask what you're doing?" the voice replied

"Trying to get the lateral stab on this bird properly aligned, its been out of sync since the Captain brought it onboard – and since I got the joy of being the Nickel's crew chief – which, by the way, means that I have to do all my normal duties, plus be primary on all maintenance work and paperwork associated with this bird. It's a pain in my ass – but maybe the Captain will notice or something. I don't know."

"Ah. Why do you call it the Nickel?"

"What? Are you new here or something? Its tail number is 555, or Triple Nickel – a coin type they used on Earth back in the 20th. But everyone just shortened it to Nickel." Connie replied as she avoided the urge to hit the ship again, all it would do was bruise her knuckles anyway.

"I see. I guess I just haven't heard that. Still having trouble?" the boots asked

"YES! This bloody thing refuses to stay!" Connie replied in an exasperated tone

"It falling off or shoving high?" Boots, as she was now thinking of the other crewman since she hadn't heard his name inquired.

"Falling off, and every time I bring it back inline again it just drops a hair off."

"You've probably got a minor variance in the power feed then. An aberrant wave pattern can cause that problem. Give it a look."

Connie frowned, and then switched modes on her tri-corder and checked the power-coupling. And there it was, staring her in the face. Less then a quarter degree of variance, but it was just far enough out of spec. Berating herself for not having checked for such a problem earlier she made a quick adjustment, and the whole system slipped into spec like the well oiled machine that it was. Grabbing a spanner she began to re-attach the housing cover, "Mister, I could just about kiss you. I've been beating my head against that problem for an hour. But since we've just met, maybe I can buy you a drink sometime?"

"We'll have to see Crewman. In any case, I've got other work I need to attend to. Glad I could help." With that, the Boots disappeared.

A minute or so later as Connie was assembling her tools and putting things away she saw the deck chief walking by, "Hey Chief! Got a minute?"

Master Chief Petty Officer Harlan glanced over, "Sure Connie, what's up? Get that stab squared away?"

"Yep, say a couple minutes ago there was another deck hand over here and he gave me some good advice, but I didn't recognize him – you see him? I'd like to buy him a drink."

The Chief raised an eyebrow, "That was no deck hand Connie…"

"Eh? What do you mean." She replied as she closed up her toolbox, "He was wearing coveralls."

"Yah… He does that – likes to get a feel for how things are running without interfering with the works."

Connie frowned and stood up, "Who does what?"

"You still haven't figured it out? That was the Captain."

All she could do was stare, "No. No way. I…"

Patting Connie on the shoulder the Deck Chief grinned, "Don't worry bout it – from what I've heard he's been doing the same damn thing all across the ship. Rather sneaky of him, but it does mean he gets the skinny on what's going on."

"Uh… yah… but some of the stuff I said."

"Well – would you have said what you said to anyone down here on the deck?"

"Well yah. But – he's the Captain… and…"

"And if it was good enough for them, from what I've heard, it's good enough for him. Hell, he might even let you buy him a drink sometime" the Chief kept on grinning

"I'm not gonna live this one down, am I?"

"…'fraid not little girl. 'Fraid not. But look at it this way – the Captain now knows who his Crew Chief is."

Connie snorted, she couldn't decide if that would be a good thing, or not.


	4. Viper Flight

Time kept trickling away, and with his inspections complete, and just under twenty four hours until it was time for launch, Devin climbed up the side of the Triple Nickel and slid into the pilot's seat. A moment later Crewman Walsh pulled herself up the side of the fighter and gave him a hand plugging into the onboard oxygen feed and strapping in. When he'd flown the fighter in he hadn't been wearing a full flight suit – which was technically against regulation - but the Eagle did have a pressurized cockpit, and outside of combat it wasn't an issue. However, this was to be a combat training flight – and Devin wasn't stupid, or suicidal. The flightsuit was designed to give him a limited span of protection in a vacuum if he had to eject.

Taking the helmet offered by Connie he eased it on and shifted his shoulders before giving the young crew chief a thumbs up, "Thanks Crewman – you do good work."

She grinned despite herself, "We'll see if you still think that after the flight. Good to be appreciated though Cap'n."

Devin nodded and the girl jumped down and stepped back clear of the fighter and gave him a thumbs up. Tapping a few commands into the console on his left side he engaged the engine start sequence and closed the canopy. He was going out to observe Red and Gold squadron's training runs on the far side of the moon. Because they were still in space dock, the forward tubes were not available for launch, and instead the Ranger was receiving and launching all craft from its rear deck. Flight deck ops had already arranged for all inbound flights to land on the starboard side of the ship, while all outbound left from the port side. So far this had worked out well.

As the impulse and warp engines came online Devin settled his hands on the throttle and stick and glanced around his surroundings. Beside his fighter, the CAG, Commander Wellington was warming up his own Eagle. Switching to the already agreed upon inter-flight frequency he toggled his mic, "Good to go Griff?"

"Aye sir, Viper Two is hot and good to go."

"Roger, switching to Control." Toggling frequencies Devin keyed his mic again, "Ranger Control, this is Viper lead – flight of two, requesting clearance for rear deck taxi and launch."

"Viper Lead this is Ranger Control. You are clear for taxi and launch at your convenience. No inbound traffic to report and yard traffic is low." Came the reply

"Acknowledged Control, Viper is cleared for discretionary launch. Keep the lights on for us."

"Will do, control out."

Flipping back to the flight frequency, "You catch that Two?"

"Roger."

"Alright, let's make this interesting. Formation taxi, line up and hold short of the redline for a formation launch. Show these young pups a couple of old hands still know how it's done."

"Roger that. You have the lead. Call the count."

Devin grinned and snapped a quick salute to Connie who was still standing off to the side observing her fighter. "Advancing throttle to taxi, I'll take the outside lane." And matching his words with action the nimble craft rolled forward on its land gear, which for the first time in over a century was actually wheeled. It made for maneuvering of large numbers of the fighters easier. Easing his fighter around a wide turn he lined up with the opened rear doors of the Ranger, glancing to his right he saw that Viper 2 was matching his wing near perfectly - excellent. "Viper flight, throttle back and engage brakes."

A moment later the two fighters sat 'cocked' at the redline on the flight deck. "Viper Flight engage repulsors and retract gear."

On cue, both fighters lifted off the deck and the landing gear retracted into its housing, "Viper 1, going to military power. On my Mark, 2 follow my lead on a 2 second interval. Mark."

With that Devin shoved the throttle forward and the Eagle fighter accelerated out of the bay – two seconds later, Viper 2 carrying Commander Wellington followed suit. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Viper two push a bit to slide into a close formation.

"Two, this is lead, We'll make a clearing turn to starboard, make a quick pass of the Ranger and then enter high Earth Orbit around to the night side and head for the moon..." Devin glanced around the shipyards as he began his turn, nice and easy, Viper 2 easily sticking with him, "Do Red and Gold squads have any opposition on this training run?"

There was a pause and then the CAG replied, "Only simulated ground fire sir."

"Well then. What say we play the marauding CAP? It's been a while since I got to shoot at something."

"If you feel up to it sir, Red and Gold squads will be using simulation loads, we'll only have phasers, but if we set them to the same power levels that Red and Gold are using we'll be fine."

"Let's go to it then, you have a feed of the mission in progress?" Devin asked as he adjusted his course to take them into a high polar orbit

"Aye sir, patching you in now – it should be coming up on your MFD. The red outline is the combat course. Red squadron is supposed to play Wild weasel for Gold squadron, removing or distracting the ground emplacements while gold squadron makes its run on a simulated military training facility. Red Squadron is also in charge of dealing with any fighter class threats – though none were expected. As you know, the training facilities are on the dark side." The CAG paused, the continued, "So how do you want to play it Lead?"

"We'll make a warp hop to the moon as planned, but instead of coming out of warp past the moon, we'll make our hop short, slide low on the light side and make our entry into the combat area at nap of the earth. Use the feed from the defenses to see how the squadrons have themselves arranged, and then pop up and start tossing hot light. That work for you? They're you're people." Devin asked as he took his hand off the throttle and accessed the weapons panel, dialing back the power on his pulse phasers

"Roger Lead sounds like a good game plan. Viper 2 is ready to go to warp at your mark."

"Lead copy's. Acknowledge weapon power dial back."

"Weapons dialed back to simulation power sir."

"Roger. Going to Warp, restrict to Warp 1.5 on my Mark… MARK."

On queue both fighters elongated and jumped to warp speed as the computer automatically calculated their course and trajectory. 45 seconds later the fighters came out of warp, in formation heading towards the surface of the moon.

"Clear of warp, heading dirt side, nap of the earth. Keep it tight as your comfortable with 2, and we'll see what these boys have waiting for us."

The fighters entered the moons gravity and descended to fifty feet over the moons surface, traveling near the speed of sound. It wasn't safe, but it was interesting flying. Both pilots disabled the computer's altitude over-ride lock out. In combat, the damn thing could get you killed faster then the ground could.

"Lead, two. I've accessed the combat course's primary mainframe and added us to the friendly IFF list. We shouldn't have to worry about hostile ground fire. I've also silently set us as unfriendly to the Red and Gold squadrons. If they pick us up, we want to at least keep it fair."

"Copy two; I've been taking a look at the course. Sensor's show that Red squadron has placed itself in two groups of six, split into two ship elements with one group flying high and covering CAP and the second flying low and working the ground cover. Gold squadron is following on average four to six seconds behind – 2 six ship groups, the second group another three seconds behind the first. Looks like before they hit the firing area they have to bounce over a ridge line. If we push it we can beat them to the line, and pop up in the middle of Gold Squadron and give 'em hell." Devin responded, sending the feed he was pulling from the combat course over to Viper 2

"Not bad Lead. I'm game – you sure you've never flown combat with the fighter corps?"

"Positive two, but that don't mean I don't know the game. Crossing the day barrier now - we're about three minutes out. All sensors to passive – use the combat course's feed. Keep it tight."

The two ship flight raced over the surface of the moon angling for the combat range. The Captain's plan was a good one, but they had to push the envelope to make it work since both squadrons were already in the thick of it.

Ahead of them, Red Squadron was doing its best to take out the majority of the ground emplacements. The six flying CAP were using active sensors and vectoring the shooters on targets. If they were lucky, that would mean they wouldn't be paying enough attention to flying CAP.

Dropping into a trench that ran most of the way to their ridge Devin glanced over at his wingmate, and keyed his mic, "Obviously you do this for a living. Ridge is coming up in thirty seconds. We should beat them there by just under a minute. Once at the ridge, cut power and we'll settle in to wait. We'll pop up and hit the first wave of Gold squadron, then flip around and hit the second wave as hard as we can before Red Squadron wakes up."

"Roger that. Cutting thrust on your mark."

The two Eagle class fighters slid up over a berm and down under the ridgeline

"Mark - backs to the wall. We should have company in about 50 seconds. Keep it loose but stay on my wing. We don't have any ship to ship munitions so we need to share targets. Link your firing computer with mine so we stay on the same target. Copy?"

"Roger. Targeting computers linked. Call the ball Lead and we'll start the party."

Seconds ticked down, and then the six fighters that were taking on the ground cover from Red Squadron ripped over the ridgeline and headed for the heavier defenses just over the primary target. Four seconds later the Hawk fighter bombers of Gold squadron, followed suit, hugging closer to the ground. Devin's IFF showed that Gold Squadron's commander was flying lead in the first formation. Leading from the front was a good tactic – but now that Devin knew who he was he was going to die. On top of which he was flying an R model, which had the extra ECM and Recon suit aboard. Knocking him out of the battle would make it a bit tougher on the nuggets of Gold Squadron.

Keying his mic as the first flight group cleared the ridge Devin punched his throttle to the firewall, "Start the Party 2."

Devin got a double click as an acknowledgement as both Eagle fighters leapt out of their hole, paired pulse phasers ripping off pinpoint shots at the lead Hawk fighter.

Aboard Gold lead Lt Commander Rice saw her shield indicator light up and cursed, hitting her mic as she tried to break to port and away, "Red squadron missed a battery behind the rid…" Suddenly her comm cut out as the simulation software flashed a big red skull and crossbones on her heads up display… Computerized autopilot took over, pulling back on the stick and exiting her from the exercise. Keying the internal intercom - which still worked Rice growled, "Damn damn damn."

"Don't feel bad boss." Ensign Quark responded from his somewhat elevated position behind her

"And why not WEPS? We just blew the damn mission."

"I'm not sure, but that wasn't a weapons battery, I got a look, just before we were declared dead. I think that was the CAG… and another fighter. Don't know who though, but they both hit us with phasers only, probably passive targeting. We didn't have a chance."

"Sneaky bastards…" Craning her neck, Gold lead looked back down at the moons surface as they rose towards orbit. Red flashes were continuing, and there were more then a few Hawk fighters following her up to orbit under computer assist.

Down on the deck Devin hauled back on the stick which whipped his fighter around on its back, gaining altitude. Between the remaining ground emplacements that Red Squadron had missed, and himself and the CAG they'd knocked out half of Gold Squadron. Chopping the head off had slowed Gold Squadron's reaction time, but as he rolled his fighter and acquired the first of the second group, he saw that they'd broken into 2 ship elements and scattered. He approved heartily.

Two elements from the CAP group had also broken off to pursue them, but they were at least thirty seconds from engagement… Picking the closest group Devin targeted the lead Hawk and keyed his mic as he opened fire, "We've got 20 seconds before we're gonna have company 2."

"Roger. You got a plan?"

"We're local defenders. The bombers are the threat; the fighters can't do as much damage. We take out as many of the big friends as possible while avoiding their CAP." His sentence was punctuated as the lead ship from the first element pulled up sharply – it had registered as a 'kill'

Stomping on the rudder he whipped the nose of his fighter around and brought his guns to bear on the second Hawk – and rolled to port immediately as the rear phaser bank on the hawk flared to life and glanced off his shield. "Son of a…" Devin growled - he'd forgotten the Hawk's weapon officer had control of a rear mounted phaser bank. They hadn't had that problem with the first group because they hadn't seen the attack coming, and they'd been attacked from an angle the rear phaser bank couldn't reach. Rolling back on target he fired again – reducing the enemy shields as they fired on him, another glancing hit, but he couldn't handle much more.

Suddenly Viper 2 popped up from his location directly to Viper lead's Aft, and fired a long burst at the enemy Hawk – which suddenly yanked back hard and headed for orbit.

"Nice shooting two."

"Thanks for playing linebacker 1. Four left…. Shit!"

Viper 2 rolled hard to starboard as a photon missile whipped through the space it'd been in.

Devin pulled up and followed its line, targeting the first of Red Squadron that was bearing down hard from altitude and loosed a long line of phaser fire before breaking off and heading for the nearest group of Hawks, "2, See if you can keep those bastards busy, I'm gonna go see if I can punch a few more holes in our Golden friends.

"Rog…"

The two ships split, Viper 2 pulling high as Viper Lead dumped altitude and headed for the remaining bombers.

Throttle to the wall Devin rocketed over the lunar landscape. He had under a minute at best to knock out the remaining bombers before they hit their targets. Even with only four of the remaining 12, it was possible that they had enough ordinance to complete the mission.

He was only going to get one pass. Either the Hawk's weapons officers would get him, or Red Squadron would – so he was going to have to make this one count. Pulling up slightly he gained about two hundred feet of altitude above the surface, and then killed his forward thrust, over riding the automatic braking sequence he used his rudder pedals to bring the first Bomber under his guns, and opened up, holding down the trigger and painting both bombers by wagging his nose back and forth a bit with phaser fire. Neither bird returned fire immediately, and a moment later the lead bomber went down before the weapons officer of the second started firing back.

It to went down before Devin's shields reported a collapse. The lead ship however had gotten off a pair of quantum torpedoes. The other two bombers had both started loosing shots.

Kicking his rudder over he started firing at the closer of the two bombers, and the pilot tried to jink, throwing off the launch of their next two torpedoes. The second bomber suddenly pulled up, its load expended it rolled over and started playing turtle for its wingman, its weapons officer beginning to return fire with his rear phaser bank.

Shunting main engine power shields since he was coasting, Devin continued firing at the remaining two bombers, and scored another kill. His shields were failing and the torpedo loads were away however. He was about to pull out when he heard the tone of three missile locks. Two seconds later the training loads slammed into his fighter and the system counted him dead.

"Well damn. They got me."

As his ship rose to orbit, the comm system came to life "Good exercise everyone. This is the CAG. All rendezvous in orbit for re-group and flight to home plate. Oh, and Captain? That was some impressive and inspired flying. I'm impressed, even if you got dead. You'd have made a good Death Angel."

"Thanks CAG. You're people fly well. The squads are a little green, and they need to work on situational awareness yet, but it'll come. Good exercise all." Above him, a gaggle of Hawk fighters, two of the fighters from Red Squadron, and Viper 2 were waiting for him. A few minutes later the remaining fighters formed up – and with everyone under control of their ships again, the three groups warped back to the yards.

"I hear you made life hell for Gold Squadron sir." Connie said as she helped the Captain unharness after he and the fighter group and returned to the Ranger, "Didn't peg you for much of a fighter jock."

"I'm not. But I do enjoy flying. We added a completely unexpected element to their mix. I'd say we cheated, but the enemy will cheat given the opportunity and they need to know that." Devin waited until Connie jumped down before pulling himself up and out of the cockpit. "Still – they reacted correctly, if a bit slowly, and did – despite the heavy losses complete the mission. And of course, Red Squadron did kill myself and the CAG. Not a victory – but not a complete defeat."

Hopping down he blinked as he saw a rather large group of pilots clustered around his fighter. A moment later the CAG stepped through the line. "You know sir; I wasn't sure what to make of you flying that there fighter aboard. I'd seen your service jacket – I knew you were qualified, and I've heard from around the fleet that you're more then a fair pilot. You certainly have the quals to prove that."

The CAG paused, "But I'd like to say that when you told me you were going to come along to observe the exercise, I was skeptical. I didn't think you'd have the stones for this kind of flying. I was wrong – you are one of the best non-fighter pilots I've ever seen behind a stick or a control board. That was some impressive flying out there, especially from someone who's not served with a fighter squadron. I guess what I'm trying to say sir, is that while you always had my respect – as your right as our Captain… you earned a measure more today. I'm proud to serve under you. And I think everyone here would agree with me."

As one the group of pilots agreed with a heartfelt "Hooah."

Devin paused a moment, and glanced around at the collected mass, which was starting to draw a large number of the deck crew, "All I can say to that Commander is Thank You. Some of you have served with me under other commands. Most of you have not. I have always been a supporter of the 'fighter corps' as it were, even before it was thought to be a conceivable idea. What you people do, here on the flight deck, and out there in the black – is dangerous, and your survival rates have been calculated as the lowest in the fleet. However – I think what you do is important. I think having the ability to skirt an opponents defenses, and hit him where he's weakest, to give close support to troops on the ground, to have group capable of a fast, and armed response without having to bring a Capital ship into the fire zone is important. You all obviously believe it as well – for you have placed your very lives in support of this fact." Devin paused to let his words sink in and to take a breath. "There are people in the fleet who think we're wrong, and that we will fail. I tell you this now – I won't be out there on the point with you very often, but this ship will always be there to welcome you home. I will stand behind all my people. We're going to prove that this concept works. In 18 hours we go to space for the first time. Our primary mission is to protect the Federation. We are a ship of War, make no mistake about that. We have secondary functions – but our primary job is to take force to the enemy. And while I hope we will never have to exercise this role – We will if we have to. If it comes to that, I can't promise you everyone will survive. But we will always bring EVERYONE home. We will leave no one behind."

A cheer rose up from the surrounding mass; it lasted for just under a minute before the group started to break up. As they did Wellington stepped up to Devin, "I meant what I said you know – I've seen very few pilots like you. You fly by instinct. It's rather impressive to watch."

"You're a damn fine pilot yourself Commander, which I would expect in my CAG." Devin said as he headed for one of the lifts to the hanger deck

Wellington stayed with him, "But I've had years of training. This is my profession."

"If you hadn't noticed Commander, it's been mine as well. I served in Ops before I took the Command track. I spent more then my share of time in shuttle bays. I might have qualled as a helmsman in almost every ship type at one point – but I've always loved flying the little stuff." Devin paused, "But you knew that."

"Indeed. I even heard you volunteered to lead a strike group that was flying a boarding party of a pirate vessel at one point. That's not something one takes lightly." The CAG responded as they stepped onto the lift, "Hell I'd have to think twice before doing that."

"I didn't really have a choice. We had three Argo's we'd stripped down and modified for the purpose. I'd been in charge of the modifications, and if they failed, everyone was dead. I couldn't send people out in that if I couldn't go myself. Besides, I was the most experienced pilot. It was an insane run, but the Admiralty wanted someone to try for the crimes. So we went in. We lost an Argo on the way. If we'd had fighter cover, we might have all made it back." Devin glanced over at Gary, "You know you didn't have to make a big deal out of that."

"Yes sir, I did. I don't know how you ended up with this Command, especially on your first Command, but from what I saw today – I know they chose the right man. This isn't just another ship for you, you believe in the mission. And those kids out there need to know that. Those that were there now know. And everyone else will hear." The CAG replied as they stepped off into the hanger deck and headed for the door that lead back to the ready rooms, "So what do you think of the nuggets?"

"Slow. They're getting there, but not fast enough. Plus they haven't chosen unit names yet." Devin glanced at Gary, "And I seem to recall sending down an order that they get that done over a week ago."

"I know. The thing is most fighter groups get their names from something they did, or a particular oddity the unit picks up. These kids haven't been together long enough for that." The Commander responded

Devin sighed, "Alright. I'll give them a month then – then I name them myself."

"Fair enough, I'm thinking about combining the two like squadrons, make Red Squadron fly with the 'Cards and Gold with the Reavers so they start getting a feel for each other and learning from the 'experts' They need to be ready, and this might help." Gary responded as they both headed into the locker room to change

"Commander, they're your people. While I do have certain expectations, and on occasion I will over-ride your authority - I do expect you to lead your people your way, and will attempt to stay off your toes in that matter. It certainly seems to be a sound endeavor." Devin paused as he set his flight helmet into the locker and started stripping out of the flight suit, "I intend to start flight ops as soon as we're clear of the yard. I want to make sure every thing runs smoothly before we get too far out of Sol."

"We'll be ready sir. I'm looking forward to my first CAT."

"Good."


	5. Out of the Frying Pan

Devin made his way onto the bridge carrying a fresh cup of coffee in a mug which was emblazoned with 'NCV-1001 USS Ranger.' In a few short minutes they'd be breaking dry dock for the first time. As he stepped onto the bridge, the entire crew looked his way, and his First Officer stood up, and stepped away from the Captain's chair. "Sir, all departments report ready to leave Dry Dock. We're just waiting for clearance from Frisco Control."

"Good to hear." Taking a sip of his coffee he glanced around at the bridge crew – which was made up primarily of the heads of the various departments. "Alright people, you've all put a great amount of work into this, time to make it look routine." Stepping over to his center chair he settled in and tapped a quick command into the arm rest console, bringing up his personal settings.

"Sir, I have clearance from Frisco Control. We've been cleared to break moorings from dry dock and make our way from the yard. Worker bee traffic has been re-routed to give us safe passage to Orbit." Commander Terrik spoke up a few minutes later

"Thanks Ops. Alright, time to see if she flies." Devin tapped his comm badge, "Bridge to Lt Cortana."

"Go ahead Captain." Replied the disembodied voice

"We've received clearance to leave dry dock, everything running smoothly down there?"

"Aye sir, we're ready to disconnect external power at anytime, Warp and Impulse engines at your descression sir."

"Thank you Lieutenant. Bridge out." Glancing around the bridge one more time the Captain couldn't help but smile, "Ok – Ops, engage break away sequence."

"Aye sir, break away sequence started. Dry dock is reporting umbilicals are retracting – clear in thirty seconds."

Devin glanced at the helm, "Mr Zephyr, bring the navigational deflector online, and prepare to depart dry dock"

"Aye Captain."

"Sir, Dry Dock is reporting umbilicals are in the clear. We are ready to leave dry dock"

"Good. Commander Nyes, if you would be so kind as to take us out?" Devin asked, glancing at his First officer

Caroline blinked, and then nodded, "Of course sir, Helm, report."

"Navigational Deflector is active and in the green, ready to leave on your order sir." Ensign Zephyr replied, glancing over his shoulder at the commander

Devin nodded at Caroline, then took a sip of his coffee and turned his attention to the main viewer

"Helm, take us out, one quarter impulse. Follow traffic pattern omega to high polar orbit." Caroline ordered

"Aye sir, ahead one quarter impulse," Ensign Zephyr replied "Clearing dry dock in fifteen seconds."

From his center chair Devin watched the crew perform in silence, tapping a couple of queries into his personal console as he did.

The USS Ranger pulled out of dry dock for the first time under her own power smoothly, and banked gracefully to port as it headed into a high polar orbit. The only odd thing about her departure was that there was no brass onboard. Typically a new ship class got a visit from the Admiralty on its maiden voyage, if only for the time it took to leave Sol. It didn't take a genius to see that the Admiralty was distancing itself from this project until it could see some results.

A few minutes later Mr Zephyr reported, "Sir, we've established polar orbit."

"Excellent. The first order of business is to head for the dark side of Luna, maximum impulse – warp tests will follow later. Helm, steer for Luna – course at your discretion." Devin responded

"Aye sir. Setting course - maximum impulse."

"Bridge to Lieutenant Commander Tae."

"Tae here Bridge." Came the immediate response

"How soon can you have the Catapults loaded and ready for testing?" Devin inquired

"CAG and I are going over that now. Expect first CAT in under an hour, say 1030 sharp, followed by a full launch work up and recovery ops."

"Take your time Commander, and do it right. We'll be awaiting the word."

"Aye sir."

"Bridge out." Turning to his first officer Devin inquired, "What's next on the list?"

"Nav systems are fully operational. Testing the full sensor suite and tactical systems are to wait until we get to the testing grounds off Titan."

"I assume a full test of the telemetry system for our fighters comes about then as well." Devin responded

"Aye sir, after which it's extended Warp trials – if all goes well we should be back at the Frisco yards for final adjustments if any, and then out to the fleet within the next couple weeks." the commander finished, looking up from her console

Devin was about to say something more when his comm badge chirped. Tapping it he stated, "O'Connor here"

"Ah, Captain, it's Lieutenant Selvin."

"What can I do for you doctor?" Devin responded, before taking a sip of his coffee, which was starting to cool

"There's been a bit of a problem with a couple of our medical records for the crew. Can I see you in sick bay?" the CMO responded

Devin paused, and glanced at his crono, it'd be at least another 45 minutes before the deck crew was ready for the first CAT shots. "Alright Doc, I'm on my way down now. I'll be there shortly."

"I'll be expecting you then Captain. Sick bay out."

Downing the rest of his coffee Devin sighed.

Glancing over at him Caroline frowned, "Trouble sir?"

"No, not really, I was rather expecting this – but not quite this quick." Devin pushed himself out of his chair and headed for his ready room to drop off his mug

"Anything I should be aware of sir?"

"Not at this time Commander. The bridge is yours, til I get back" Devin said as the doors to his ready room slid open, he paused a moment, "And contact me if I'm not back before the CAT trials, I want to be on hand for those."

"Aye sir."

* * *

After dropping off his coffee mug off in his ready room Devin headed down to deck six, and Sick bay. Stepping into the medical bay he unconsciously straightened his tunic. "What can I do for you doc?"

Looking up from a PADD she was studying Lieutenant Selvin nodded, "G'morning Captain. I suppose I should have expected you to be no different from any of the other captain's I've served under. You all hate physicals."

Devin chuckled, "That was a fairly interesting way to get me to come down here without alerting the bridge crew, however."

"I though it was in the Captain's best interest that it not be common knowledge that he had not completed his physical when the rest of his crew had complied with the standard procedure. I see from you records sir that you're in nominal shape, and a tad on the young side for a Command." The Lieutenant looked up from her PADD again, "Shall we get this over with then?"

"By all means Doc, it's not a slight against you, but I just don't like being poked and prodded." Devin responded, settling down on one of the bio beds, "Even if very little poking and prodding has been done since the advent of Medical Tri-corders long before my time." He winked

"Oh, I completely understand Captain. It's a strange malady that all Captains seem to pick up. Still, I would think it's in your best interest to present a good example for the crew." Opening her tri-corder she removed the scanning wand and passed it over Devin slowly, pausing a moment around his eyes, "Ah. Your record briefly mentions an ocular surgery, but didn't mention an implant… yet I'm picking up one."

"That's because it's not much of an implant. I was hit in the face by a phaser set on high stun during an away mission. It damaged the retinal nerve of my right eye. Since the tissue wouldn't naturally heal to the correct state, they implanted cloned tissue, but had to use nano sutures due to the nature of the injury." Devin responded as if he had answered the question a hundred times.

"And they've never come out?" Helen asked with a frown

"I was told they weren't designed to. And I can't much complain - I've had excellent vision since the surgery. Is there a problem Doctor?" Devin queried

"Well, no. Not exactly – but this kind of surgical operation is a little rare – and it would preclude you from flight ops due to the possibility to could fail, I should pull your flight status right now. Hell, you shouldn't even be let near a fighter – the Gs those things pull in combat, even with inertial dampers could rip those sutures out – which would be both incredibly painful, and disorienting when you lost the use of your eye…" she paused, "Hell, if that happened I'm pretty sure we couldn't fix the damage a second time, assuming the occurrence didn't get you killed."

Devin frowned, "No one's ever mentioned that before."

"That's probably because no one's ever looked closely. I've seen your record sir, flying is what you do – and you seem to do it well – so I can see why they didn't pull you back in the day and bent the rules a bit. But now it wouldn't be ethical for me to not pull at least your fighter quals sir." Helen stepped back and put her tri-corder down

"I can understand you reasoning, but I've had these for over a decade now with no issue. And fighter quals push you through some of the most demanding maneuvers the craft can perform." Devin retorted

Helen shook her head, "It's a lot like pointing a phaser at your head with a randomizer on the trigger sir. Sure, the last six tabs of the trigger didn't kill you, but that next press might. Is that worth your life and perhaps the lives of those flying with you?"

Devin rubbed his face and Helen put the tri-corder down, closing it. "There might be something I can do. The nerves should have healed more then enough in that amount of time that we can remove the sutures, but I'm not sure. I'd have to run a few tests and check on some things. Nano sutures aren't exactly normal operating procedure."

"Alright doc…" Devin responded, pushing up off the bio bed, "I'll make a deal with you – you don't forward the paperwork to suspend my qualifications for medical reasons until we're certain the operation you just proposed can't be done. If that's the case, I'll voluntarily give up my quals. Until such a time, I'll also stay out of the cockpit of anything more rowdy then a personal shuttle - deal?"

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that Captain…" Helen said, picking her tri-corder back up, "It's not exactly ethical"

"I'm not asking you to stand before an ethics sub-committee on this doc, but if you revoke my flight status on medical reasons, even if those reasons later cease to be a factor, getting my flight qualifications back will take me months of red tape. I spent too long on those quals to begin with." Devin finished, straightening his tunic

"Ah… alright." Helen nodded, "I'll skirt the issue for you – but if I find out you've been out flying with the squadrons again before we finish this I will have those flight quals yanked before you get back onboard Captain."

"Fair enough doc, you done poking and prodding?"

"Aye sir, you're fit for duty. I'll start looking into the procedure today, should be able to find an answer for you within a week – all things remaining as they are." The CMO stepped back, still the ships doctor, but taking up her position as a Starfleet Officer as well. "There is one thing though sir, I haven't mentioned it to engineering because they're busy enough… but my EMH is… odd."

"Define odd Lieutenant." Devin glanced around – sick bay was quiet, but there were more then a fair share of personnel that worked under the CMO and saw to the needs of the crew

Helen picked up the hint, "If you'd step into my office."

"Certainly doctor" Devin replied and a moment later they stepped into the office and the clear glass doors shut behind them, "So, what's the deal with the EMH?"

"Well. Its nothing about its functionality… but… maybe I'd better show you." Helen frowned then said, "Computer, activate EMH – authorization code Alpha Mike Delta Kilo Seven"

"You locked your EMH to command codes?" Devin asked, as the hologram doctor appeared before them. "Oh. I see."

"How may I assist you doctor?" The EMH intoned with a slight Irish lit. Unlike most EMH models – which seemed to have a penchant for picking up annoying habits and had rather abrupt bedside manner and where male – this EMH was female, and bore a striking resemblance to the ship's CEO.

"Computer, pause program" Helen ordered, "You can see the problem."

"Quite clearly, I'll check with Lieutenant Cortana this evening after we finish the first full impulse test. If she doesn't know about it I'll have Commander Terrik look into it, since this section of the computer system is their job." Devin paused then chuckled, "Still, she's easier on the eyes then the typical EMH."

"Captain!" Helen exclaimed, looking mildly offended.

"Just telling the truth, those bloody holograms were genius, but they all had a sadistic side. This one still runs on the same base programming so it probably does as well – but at least it's nicer to look at. That said – it is outside of standard protocol, and if it was done as a prank – we'll find out. And if not – well we'll find out why." Devin nodded, "I promise you that."

"Thank you Captain." The chief doctor responded with a nod, looking slightly relieved.

"Anything else Doctor?" Devin asked

"No sir. Except that I think Lieutenant Fero was hoping to speak with you about the crew psych sessions"

Devin grunted, "I know, but I've been a bit busy to fit her in. I'll make a point of it in the next day or so."

"All I can ask."

"Mm… We'll see." With that Devin made his way out through sick bay and headed back towards the bridge

* * *

Devin was fifteen feet from the bridge turbolift when his combadge chirped, "Terrik to Captain O'Connor."

Reaching up he tapped his combadge and replied, "O'Connor here, what can I do for you Commander?"

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from Starfleet Command – its Admiral Decker for you sir."

"Route it to my ready room. I'm just getting on the turbolift now."

"Aye sir, what about the CAT tests – I believe you wanted to witness them?" the Commander asked

"Looks like I'll miss 'em." Devin stepped onto the turbolift, "O'Connor out."

Grumbling about his bad luck Devin let out a terse, "Bridge."

He'd been looking forward to witnessing the first Catapult shots – but duty called. Once the turbolift opened to the bridge he nodded to Commander Nyes and headed directly for his ready room. Sliding into his office chair he tapped a key on the console and brought up the Comm channel, "Admiral – what can I do for you?"

"Hello Captain. How are the Shakedown trials going?"

"So far so good, though we've barely just begun. No holes in the boat so far. However, I doubt you called for a status check – since we didn't even rate an Admiral for launch."

"Now Captain, that's very cynical of you…" The Admiral paused, "But I suppose I deserve that. And you are correct – I'm not calling to check on status. We have a minor situation – and you're the only ship within reasonable response distance."

"What's going on?"

"A Starfleet convoy just dropped out of contact on a run between one of our research centers at Alpha Centari and the testing facilities at Titan. We need you to make best speed for the last known location and find that convoy." The Admiral stated bluntly

Devin frowned, "Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Go ahead Captain; I realize this is somewhat irregular."

"That might qualify as a massive understatement sir. While I have every confidence in my crew and this boat – we haven't even completed a fully round of tests and calibration yet sir. And we can't be the only ship in Sol able to respond to this."

"Under normal circumstances, you'd be correct Captain. However this convoy is carrying very sensitive military experiments to the testing range. It is possible it came under pirate attack – it is also possible that a catastrophe occurred of some type. We don't know – and we would prefer to keep this quiet until everything can be sorted out – which as you can likely guess means only one ship. And the Ranger is the only ship available that has the crew onboard for a possible heavy SAR/Salvage job, and the firepower to go after Pirates that would be well enough equipped to take on this convoy and not allow a mayday to get through. In short – you are currently the only choice we have. Can you do the job Captain?"

"Aye sir – we can get it done – but we're not operating under ideal conditions. Trial by fire I guess. Can you give me any information about these experiments Admiral?" Devin asked, unconsciously pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee and taking a sip

"I'm sorry Captain, currently that's on a need to know basis, and until we have a better idea what happened – you don't need to know." The Admiral looked apologetic "However that may change – so report back as soon as you know something."

"Aye sir."

"Captain I'm transmitting to you the last known location of the convoy. It was on the standard space lane route I mentioned to you before consisting of two heavy Milspec freighters and a single Saber class frigate as escort." The Admiral tapped a few commands into a console at his end then looked up, "That's all the information we have. Good luck Captain."

"In this case, we might have to make our own luck. We'll be underway as soon as possible and make best speed for the convoy."

"Good, Decker out."

Devin sat at his desk for a moment sipping his coffee and pondering the conundrum before him. This didn't bode well at all. While he doubted it was pirate activity this close to Sol – stranger things had happened. But, they wouldn't find out sitting out here. Tapping his comm. badge he said, "O'Connor to Lieutenant Cortana."

"Go ahead Captain."

"Lieutenant, just so you know – this isn't a Drill. How soon can you be ready to go to Warp? And how much can you give me?"

Devin could just about hear the gears turning in the Chief Engineer's head, "Ah... I could have us ready in… ten minutes sir? I'd be comfortable with… say Warp 7… maybe 8, max without proper ramp testing… why sir?"

"You'll know soon enough Lieutenant. Make it happen. We've got a change of orders and somewhere to be. Understood?"

"Aye sir, we'll make it work."

"That's what I like to hear Lieutenant, O'Connor out." Tapping his combadge to close the connection he rose and headed out onto the bridge, and started asking questions before he'd made two steps, "Commander Nyes – what's the status of the CAT tests?"

"Sir, we just completed the first full speed dual tube test – twelve fighters launched from each tube in just under a minute – just as advertised." Nyes replied with a small smile of triumph

"Good to hear, time to bring 'em home, Commander Terrik pass the word to the Airboss – I need those fighters back on board, in five minutes - combat landings. Commander Nyes, let the senior staff know I need them in the situation room in 15 minutes, make sure they call up their seconds." Devin paused a beat to breathe then glanced at the Helm, "Mr Zephyr. A minute ago I transferred a set of coordinates to the helm – set a course and stand by to hear from engineering. As soon as they're ready, and all the fighters are accounted for we're heading for those coordinates at our current max sustainable Warp. Understood?"

A chorus of "Aye sirs" rang our, as well as more then a few strange looks. Devin looked around his bridge and nodded. "I'm sure you have questions – which will be answered in time. For now, do your jobs and I'll see the senior staff in the situation room in 15 minutes. Get to work."

* * *

Down on the flight deck the deck crews were taking a moment to celebrate the success of the CAT system before prepping Red and Gold Squadron's for their turn at the CATs. The celebration was cut short as the Deckboss' voice blared over the flight deck address system. "Flight Deck, prepare for Combat retrieval Ops. This is NOT a drill. First fighter will be lined up in 30 seconds. MOVE people."

For about three seconds a stunned silence fell, and then the section chiefs started to holler orders. And everyone started moving – fast. Crewman First Class Walsh joined her deck gang and prepared to handle the incoming fighters. Part of her wondered what the hell was going on, as the rest of her went about her job just like she'd trained to do. This might be the first time they'd done it for real – but the entire Deck crew had been training in holo-sims for this for better then six months so they'd get it right, the first time out. And it looked like they were going to have to do just that.


	6. Into the Fire

Lieutenant Domino Cortana ran her hand through her hair as she tapped her combadge to close the link with the Captain, then turned to look at the warp core before blowing out a long breath and closing her eyes. She wanted to scream, or curse, or throw something – but her counselors had been slowly working on increasing her self control and right now she couldn't afford to blow her cool. After counting down from ten she opened her eyes and pointed at the crewman nearest to her. "Jimmy, wake up Lieutenant Florence. We've got work to do and I'm going to need him in here."

"Yes ma'am," the engineer nodded and trotted off tapping his combadge

Raising her voice she resisted the urge to hop up on the safety rail around the Warp Core to get everyone's attention. Being short had its disadvantages… "Ok everyone, listen up!"

She waited the requisite ten seconds for everyone to put down what they were doing to pay attention, "The Captain says we're going somewhere, and we're going there in a hurry – so the tweaking and tuning we were planning to do to make this boat sing? Stow it – we need to be able to give the bridge Warp eight, now. So give me a status report people, can we do it?"

Off to Domino's left, Chief Rix – a Bajoran – and Domino's most senior non-commissioned officer piped up, "Warp field looks good, and the core is stable. I don't see why not. Though I wouldn't push it past that without tuning, it seems like no two ships ever run the same model warp core quite the same. We probably won't be overly efficient in getting there, but we'll get there all the same Lieutenant."

Nodding, Domino replied, "Good to hear Chief – then let's get it done. What about shields and weapon systems? Mac? You finished that diagnostic yet?"

Ensign Mackenzie nodded, "Got it done Cort. The weapon systems and shielding checked out – but somehow we got out of the dock without the targeting subsystem programming being completely loaded into the main computer. The onboard weapons will work but we won't really be able to point them at anything with any accuracy until we get a chance to properly load that subsystem… and while I think I have what I need – it'll probably take a good hour to process."

"Get started Mac. Take the replicators offline or whatever you have to do to get the processing power. I don't know if we'll need weapons – but it'd be a fairly sad sight if we were called to use them, and we couldn't point them at anyone." Domino ordered, and then followed with a question. "Shields looked ok though?"

"You bet. They need some tweaking, but they should function nominally." Mackenzie affirmed.

"Good. What's the word on the CAT system – how hard was it on the main batteries, Carl?" Domino fired off, her finger spearing out at her other on shift ensign.

Carl blinked; seemingly surprised that he was being called on, "Uhm…"

Domino growled, which was an all together disturbing sound, coming from her frame, "Carl…."

"No… I got it ma'am. The CAT shots were barely a blip on the power grid ma'am – almost as advertised. We could shut down the Warp Core and still fire full squadron shots for hours without expending much." Carl answered, suppressing a nervous swallow.

"Great. Carl, your team is in charge of making any needed adjustments on the fly to the inertial compensators, do it right – I don't want to end up splattered on a bulkhead, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Where the hell is Florence?" Domino asked no one in particular.

"Right behind you, Lieutenant," Zachary Florence answered in a heavy baritone.

Domino spun on the balls of her feet to face her second. While most of the engineering staff was taller then her without trying too hard– Zach towered above her. He was a good six foot four inches tall and built like an Ox. Domino had no idea what his parents fed him as a child, but whatever it was – it worked. She'd originally be a bit intimidated by the large Junior Grade, and slightly worried he'd try to muscle into her job, but so far none of that had happened, and she'd found him to be a competent officer, and an excellent second. Little did she know that Florence found the fiery little Irish girl intimidating as all hell.

"It's about time. I have to go up to the bridge to get briefed on what the hell is going on that we're getting diverted from our shakedown. You're in charge til I get back, the Chief can fill you in. Let the bridge know in… four minutes that we are ready to go to Warp. I told the Captain ten, so being ready a few minutes early is always a good thing – besides – we could go to Warp right now – but they don't need to know that." Domino retorted smoothly as she headed for the door, "Hold the fort for me eh Florence?"

"Yes ma'am" Zach replied, straightening his duty tunic. He'd been called out of a dead sleep and literally dressed on his jog down to engineering. Looking at the Chief he sighed, "Ok Rix, spill it – what the hell is going on?"

* * *

Out in the black, Commander Wellington watched his two veteran squadrons line up and take their turns at the retrieval deck. 'Combat landings' meant that the fighters lined up for landings two at a time, with a scant five second spacing between pairs. The deck was wide enough that they could probably retrieve four at a time in this manner, but safety dictated that two be the maximum. To also alleviate traffic problems, the pairs alternated which retrieval side they used. 

So far everyone had made a successful 'trap' and the only foul up had been when Lieutenant Matheson, the Reaver's resident nugget had flared his fighter too hard, and blown a tire on the rear landing gear when setting down. This was always a possibility, though a fairly low risk one, since the tires were not filled with air, but instead a temperature inert gas that did not expand or contract much within its operational temperatures.

As the last of the 'Cards and Reavers entered the landing pattern, Wellington keyed his mic. "Looks like it's just you and me left Angel."

"Roger that Griff. Seems like the Ranger is in a hurry, what say we put these toys away eh?" Captain Karin 'Angel' Yi responded. Angel was a marine, and the head SAR pilot. The Ranger carried a modified version of the LC the Marine's used for breach procedures to retrieve EV pilots. The SARs had picked up the nickname "Angels" from their head pilot's moniker. So far, they hadn't been needed.

"Sounds good to me, ladies first," Griff responded as he rolled his fighter into the landing pattern

"No joy Griff, you know the rules. Angels are first out, and last in. Go put her on the deck and I'll be five seconds behind you." Angel responded ruefully as she throttled back to let Griff's Eagle, the sole member of Viper flight get ahead of her.

Griff chuckled into the open mic as he flipped over to Ranger Control, "Viper 1 on final has ball."

"Roger Viper – clear for trap." The voice of Ranger control responded.

A short ten seconds later, Viper One was yanked to a stop by the Ranger's tractor field, and Griff was being carefully guided into his parking spot by a deckhand. Glancing towards the massive bay doors, Griff noticed they hadn't yet started their close sequence, but from the elongated star lines he could tell the Ranger had already gone to Warp. Where ever they were going, they were in one hell of a hurry.

Griff had only just finished the shutdown sequence on his Eagle and popped the canopy when the head of Petty Officer Malone, his crew chief, appeared next to him. "How'd she fly Commander?"

"Smooth as a virgin's ass Chief. I take it the Captain's in a hurry to get somewhere?" Griff responded, as he pulled his helmet off.

"Aye sir, I was told to pass the word that he wants to see you ASAP. Good to hear my bird's soaring as she should." Malone agreed as he helped the Commander unstrap before hopping down.

"Guess I best not keep them waiting then. Keep up the good work Malone." Griff quipped as he clambered down from his cockpit, and headed for the nearest turbolift at a jog. He never heard Malone's reply.

* * *

"Sir, Engineering is reporting it's ready to go to Warp." Ensign Zephyr stated, as he glanced over his shoulder at Commander Nyes, "I've got the course laid in, ready on your order." 

"Commander Terrik, what's the word from the flightdeck?" Caroline asked

"Commander Tai is reporting that all fighters are aboard and the SAR has just touched down." Terrik paused and touched a control on his panel, "Starting bay door close sequence now."

"Do we need the doors closed to initiate Warp?" Caroline asked, berating herself for not knowing the answer.

Terrik shook his head, "Negative sir."

"Ensign, engage Warp 8."

"Warp eight, aye." Ensign Zephyr responded. A moment later there was a momentary shudder through the ship, as from an outside observer the Ranger seemed to stretch and then leap away as she accelerated to Warp. A moment later, the ride smoothed out. "Warp eight indicated and confirmed. We should be on station in about forty minutes."

"Good. Commander Terrik, you have the bridge. I'm going to go find out what all this is about." Caroline said as she rose from the center chair and headed for the Situation Room. Most of the senior staff was already there.

"Aye sir, keep us informed." Was the Vulcan's overly calm response as he moved from his station at Ops to take the center chair, his second quietly stepping up to take his place.

* * *

Devin listened to his senior staff talking in hushed tones behind him as he watched the star's streak by. The majority of them were already here – only Caroline and Terrik were missing, and Terrik would miss this meeting to run the bridge, as he was third in the Chain of Command. 

A moment later he heard the door swish open and Commander Nyes stepped in, "We are en-route to the provided coordinates at Warp eight sir, expected arrival in approximately 40 minutes."

Turning away from the viewport the Captain picked up his ever-present coffee mug, "Good. Now that we're all here I can explain what's going on." Devin paused to make sure he had everyone's attention. Feeling as well as seeing all eyes on him, he continued, "Thirty five minutes ago, Star Fleet Command lost contact with a military convoy moving from the research labs around Alpha Centari to our fleet testing facility around Titan – we've been tasked with heading to their last known coordinates and locating her."

"We're going looking for few lost freighters?" Domino asked, an eyebrow raised, "What's so important about these hulks that Command decided to pull us out of a shakedown?"

"Aren't the research facility's around Alpha Centari tasked with designing weaponry?" Major Maddock responded with a question.

Beside him Gary nodded, "Yah, they are Bill, their last little triumph was the breakthrough that gave us quantum torpedoes."

"I assume with that information, the rest of you are putting two and two together. Whatever is on that ship is a military secret, and may very well be fairly unhealthy for all involved." Devin tapped a control on the holotable, taking a moment to take a pull from his coffee mug, as the holoimages of the three convoy ships appeared. "The convoy was made up of three ships. Two Military Grade Specialty haulers, or Milspec freighters – and one Sabre class frigate for escort. At this time, it is unknown what has happened to them, or where they are for certain. Our job is to find them, ascertain the situation and assist in anyway possible."

"That's all well and good sir, but if I may… why us?" Caroline asked.

Hiding a small grin behind another sip of coffee, Devin answered a moment later, "Whatever is in those freighters is a military secret Command hasn't even graced us with the answer to what is in them. Due to the fact that none of the ships is reporting in, or answering hails – they've assumed the worst."

"Which is total catastrophe, and the more ships involved, the likelier that word leaks. Plus, we're equipped for heavy SAR and Salvage if necessary, and our primary mission is military in nature." Caroline filled in, "I see."

"Indeed. Any questions?" Devin asked

Lieutenant Fero raised a pair of fingers, "Just the one for me… and no offense intended to Lieutenant Grigs, but what are we doing here? This sound's like a military operation… And that's generally outside my purview, and his."

Beside her, Rilo nodded, "I was just going to ask that myself Captain."

"Perhaps, but I prefer to get everyone's opinion, and weather you consider 'military' operations outside your purview, you are here on this ship and you represent your departments, and what effects this ship, could effect them. Besides I have a few jobs for the both of you." Devin paused and glanced around, "Any other questions?"

"Yes sir. I have one," Sol stated quietly. "Are we considering the convoy friendly or hostile?"

"ROEs are the convoy is friendly until we determine otherwise, however all caution is to be taken. We do not know the status of the convoy, what its carrying, or why it dropped off the grid. Is that clear for everyone?" Devin responded. Around him, everyone nodded.

"Good. Ok, if that's the last of the questions, we've got work to do." Devin paused, but no one volunteered, "Bill – snag your three best squads and get them down to the flight deck and loaded up on their LCs. Depending on what's going on, we may need an armed response – and I want to be ready just in case. Domino, round up three repair crews and send em down to the LCs, there should be room for them, and even if we don't need Marine support, those ships may need our help, logistically and from a repair perspective. Plus, if they aren't needed to shoot, the Marine's can assist as an extra set of hands – and if we run into casualties, the Marine's Corpsmen should be able to handle basic first aide til we can get them back to the Ranger. Oh, and you'd best have your engineer's who are qualified draw a side arm. Clear?"

"As crystal sir." Bill responded, with a sharp nod.

"Very, I'll get my people on it sir," was Domino's reply.

Devin turned to Commander Wellington, "Gary – I highly doubt we're going to find the Convoy at the coordinates provided, to this end, I want two Hawks and two Hawk-Rs with full combat loads prepped for immediate launch as soon as we arrive. They'll be our bloodhounds, and scout ahead. Pair them with four Eagles to fly CAP. Full ready roster – if we run into trouble, I want to give it a welcome it'll never forget. Make sure they understand this is not a training situation."

Gary nodded, "Will do sir. I'll work with Kim and we'll be ready."

"Of course – Helen, sick bay goes on full alert starting now. I need you ready to handle a worst case scenario, including large numbers of casualties from the convoy. Your people ready?" Devin asked

"We'll be ready sir. Keep us updated so we can stage the proper equipment." Helen responded with just a hint of nerves – this could turn into her first major operation in command of a sick bay, and she didn't want to screw up.

"Kim, I assume you know what to do." Devin asked, and received a nod in response, "Don't forget to wake up the Salvage team, we may need them…. Sol, ship goes on full alert starting now. Have security teams draw weapons and report to their staging areas or duty stations. Now… Rilo and Melissa – here's what I need from you; Rilo – starting now, I want you to start running full spectrum science scans. You'll be calibrating our equipment, while looking for certain things…"

"You want me to try to figure out what the convoy is carrying," Rilo interrupted with a grin

"In a word, yes – as well as any other information you might be able to pull in, we can't depend on information from SFC on this one so we'll just have to find everything we can ourselves. Melissa – I want you to pull the duty rosters from the three ships. The freighters should be lightly crewed, and I'm really only interested in the Command Crew from the Sabre. See if you find any red flags of any sort – if you do – we need to know, ASAP. Pull your entire staff if you have to."

"I think we can handle that sir." Melissa responded with a nod, and a slight smile

"Alright, you all have your marching orders – get to it people, we hit the fire in less then twenty minutes." Devin ordered, shutting down the holotable as a way to end the meeting

The senior staff of the Ranger filed out smartly – all heading out to prepare their people for the upcoming tasks. All except Caroline – she waited until the door slid shut behind the last of them, "Are we ready for this? A lot of the crew is pretty green."

Finishing his mug of coffee Devin shrugged, "We'll have to be. We keep our eyes open and our heads about us we'll come out fine."

"But the shakedown…" Caroline started

Devin interrupted her, "Has been replaced by a trial by fire. It could end up being nothing. But we're going to treat it as something, all the way up until we figure out what's going on. Its good practice if it's nothing, and if it's not 'nothing' then we'll be ready whatever comes."

"Alright, but I'd like to go on record as saying this is a bad idea." Caroline replied with a resigned sigh.

"Noted Commander, but orders are orders, and it is our job to perform. So let's get going – we've got a busy few hours ahead of us at least."

Caroline nodded, "Aye sir – lets get this done with."

Sharing a nod, the two headed out onto the bridge. There was much to do, and not much time to do it in.


	7. Like a Kitten With a Ball of Yarn

Forty minutes after jumping to warp, the Ranger dropped in on the convoy's last known coordinates, and true to Devin's suspicion – was no where to be found.

"Captain, I'm not reading any ships in the local area, and nothing that matches the convoy's profile within two light years." Terrik reported from his spot at Ops.

Devin nodded, "We expected as much."

"Commander Tai, launch the alert fighters." Caroline interjected, glancing over her shoulder at the Flight Operations station.

"Launch order given. SAR and Hound flight launching now," Kim responded.

There was a slight hum of vibration under their feet, and a moment later a lone 'Angel' and the eight fighters of Hound flight launched sequentially, coming into view off the prow of the Ranger before breaking off and forming up for their recon.

"Science, what have you got for me?" Devin asked, rising out of his seat to watch the fighters on the forward monitor.

Lieutenant Grigs looked at the readouts he was getting from the Ranger's sensor package and frowned, "Sir, I'm not reading any discernable warp signatures through the area – I've got a couple of faint traces, but nothing that fits the seventy to ninety minute profile we're working with – which doesn't make sense."

"I concur Captain. By general standards – there has been no travel activity through this system in the last half day." Terrik added, "Unless they are actively attempting to mask their Warp signature, which is possible – given the nature of the convoy."

"None of which makes our job any easier." Devin stated flatly before turning back to Science, "Ok Mr Grigs start a full spectrum sweep. Look for anything out of the ordinary."

"Yes sir."

"Commander, give Hound flight the green light. ROEs remain as they are – they are not to engage unless fired upon first, and they are to keep a low profile. If Mr Grigs finds something we can use to track our wayward convoy, pass it on to the fighters. We will stay about six light years behind the forward group – I need to report to Starfleet, so Number one, the bridge is yours." Devin nodded to Commander Nyes, not waiting for Kim's response before heading to his ready room he glanced over his shoulder before heading inside of office, "Keep me appraised."

* * *

Caroline barely had time to utter an "Aye Sir." Before the doors to the Ready Room slid shut, with a sigh she rose and moved to the center seat, "Alright then. Tai, send those fighters on their way. Mr Zephyr, we follow at Warp six, about fifteen minutes after they move out." 

Kim nodded, and called up Hound flight, "Hound Lead, this is Home-plate – you are loosed. Repeat, loosed."

"Hound lead copies. Starting the hunt – keep the lights on for us," Kim heard over her VCom.

"Always lead. Fly safe." Kim responded then turned to the Commander, "Sir, Hound flight is away."

On the main viewer, the eight fighters, aligned into their flight pairs and then as one jumped away to warp.

"Ok people, timer is running. Recall the Angel and let's get ready to follow their lead." Caroline responded before glancing back at science, "You have anything back there Mr Grigs?"

"Maybe sir, give me a few minutes to sort it out."

Caroline nodded and settled back into the command chair – all they could do now was – hurry up and wait.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Rice settled into her acceleration couch and glanced off to her left; gauging the distance the Hawk on her wing was holding as they whistled through space at Warp six. At this point, she had almost no autonomous control over her fighter – maneuvers at Warp speeds could get a person killed, and anything beyond very minute course adjustments was unheard of anyway. Hound flight was made up of two elements – the Hawks, which were going by the callsigns Hound Lead through Four, and the second element, the Eagles, which was going by Horseman. 

Whoever had come up with the callsigns for this op had apparently had a hard on for European fox hunting. Glancing over her shoulder Rice keyed the intercom, "How's it look back there WEPs?"

Ensign Quark keyed his own intercom and grumbled in frustration, "I don't know what the deal is, but I'm getting a ton of interference all of a sudden. Can't get a clean look at anything – we're skirting fairly close to a major nebula, but not that close – we're getting hosed with some fairly heavy neutrino emissions… and the noise they're causing is making my ears ache."

Rice nodded, she couldn't really sympathize, her Ferengi backseater had a much wider range of hearing then she did – and part of the sensor return was piped to the WEPs officer as audio. "Check with Hound Four, see if they're getting the snow job to – it could be our array is out of whack."

Behind her, Quark shook his head, "Already did. They're getting the same, as are Two and Three – the Horsemen aren't getting it nearly as bad – but their arrays are a bit more simple then ours."

"Hmm – sounds like something we should report to Home plate. Guess now is as good a time as any." Rice said as she switched to her external comm and opened a channel to the Ranger, "Home plate – this is Hound Lead. We're getting some serious interference out here…"

* * *

"One moment Hound Lead," Commander Tae replied, before glancing at Caroline, "Sir, Hound Flight is encountering sensor interference." 

"Can they pipe their sensor data back to us?" Lieutenant Grigs interjected, before Nyes could comment – which earned him a raised eyebrow from the ships First Officer. Realizing his mistake, he quickly added, "I… uh, have a hunch Commander."

"Alright Mr Grigs... Tai, can you do that?" Nyes asked.

"Yes sir. The Hawks are equipped with a directional transceiver for this exact purpose. We can piggy back the information on the telemetry data."

"Set it up." Nyes ordered.

Kim nodded, "Hound Flight, pipe sensor data back to Home Plate on your telemetry feed. Please begin with t minus 10 seconds before warp acceleration, and continue through until real time."

Across the bridge Grigs nodded.

* * *

"You heard the boss lady WEPs." Rice stated after receiving the transmission from Home plate, "Apparently the brains of this outfit want another look at what you're looking at." 

Quark grumbled, "I have no idea why… there's nothing to see…"

"You know how it works WEPS," Rice responded, "It is not ours to ask why…"

"Yah yah… it is ours but to do and die." Quark finished, "Sending feed to Home Plate on telemetry link."

* * *

"Ok, I've got the data piping in - sending it to Grigs' terminal now." Kim piped up from her Flight Ops console at the back of the bridge. 

"I've got it. Give me a minute here to sync it up with our own sensor data…" Grigs responded.

"Good work people." Caroline added, she didn't know if was going to mean anything, but they were working together to attempt to solve the problem, and she couldn't see a problem with a little pat on the head from Command.

* * *

Behind the closed doors of his Ready Room, Devin wanted to reach through his terminal monitor and strangle Admiral Decker. He respected the man, and had worked with him on more then a few occasions, and now was reporting directly to him – but for the life of him, could not make the man understand that he needed more information then he was being given. 

"Sir – there is nothing more you can give me at this time… at all? Even… off the record?" Devin tried, one last time.

Decker's image shook its head, "I'm sorry Captain – you have all the information I am currently at liberty to discuss. You don't have much more information for me then when this whole thing started."

"Fine – I have the discretion to proceed in the matter as I deem necessary to recover the convoy?" Devin asked, sitting back in his seat – if they took the reigns off at least, it would be his show to sink or swim.

The Admiral seemed to consider that for a moment, and it was obvious he was choosing his next words extremely carefully, "Yes. You're the Captain on site; you are of course allowed to exercise your discretion. This matter is of the utmost importance though – so you understand."

Devin understood the Admiral's words perfectly. By requesting more autonomy from Starfleet oversight – something of which, most Captains were used to having anyway, he had officially washed the Admiral's hands of all primary responsibility. Now it was his performance that would be judged most harshly, if this ended badly. Likely even if it ended poorly it would not hurt his overall career horribly – but just the fact that Decker had seen fit to be quite that specific did bother him, a bit. "Of course sir – I will report back as soon as we have the convoy."

"Good - Decker out."

Devin stared at the blank terminal for a moment before letting out a small sigh. Well it was his mess now, time to start cleaning house – before he could decide on his next course of action however, his door chimed. After taking a moment to straighten up he ordered, "Enter."

Caroline stepped inside, "Sir, Lieutenant Grigs says he might have something."

"Oh?" Devin asked, raising an eyebrow, "And what has he come up with?"

"He wanted to tell you himself sir." Caroline responded

"Hum. Fine – I guess I'll humor him this time." Devin said, standing up, "Let's go see what Science has to say, eh Commander?"

* * *

A few moments later Devin and Caroline stepped onto the bridge, and Devin headed for Grigs' terminal. "Ok Mr Grigs, what have you got?" 

Grigs looked up, unable to suppress a grin, "This is really great sir. Someone's really being sneaky."

"While I'm sure this is very interesting to your scientific side, Mr Grigs, please remember that we're chasing a convoy that belongs to us and is carrying what we can only believe is weapons of some unspecified type – and it, and the crew onboard those ships, may have fallen into unfriendly hands." Devin said, quietly. The look on Rilo's face quickly sobered. "What have you got for me?"

"Uhm… well sir – we probably wouldn't have noticed this quite as readily if we hadn't sent the fighters out ahead of us." Rilo paused and glanced at the Captain to see if the man was following. He got a slightly curt 'go on' gesture and continued hurriedly, "Well, you see the fighters; especially the Hawk-R's are getting a lot of neutrino interference on their sensor arrays. Their arrays have a lot less power then our array on the Ranger but are really quite sensitive, and while we would likely just burn through it, and attribute the higher neutrino count to the nearby nebula, and then completely miss the significance, the fighters are sniffing out the problem quite nicely."

Devin nodded, he thought he could see where this was going, "Go on Lieutenant…"

"Well, what it boils down to is someone ahead of the fighters is using a neutrino stream to artificially mask and degrade their warp signature. It's a nifty trick, and I'd bet a weeks worth of holodeck time that any ship of the line would have completely missed it, and lost them." Grigs couldn't help it anymore; he broke out in a huge grin again, "So in short, if we follow the neutrinos, we should find the convoy sir! The worse the fighters' interference gets, the closer they are to the convoy."

Devin gave the young science officer a slight grin to take some of the sting out of his earlier comment, "Good work Mr Grigs. You might have answered at least one question of the day. Keep at it and see what else you can come up with."

"Aye sir we'll find them." Grigs responded with just a touch of his earlier enthusiasm

Turning back to the rest of the bridge, Devin headed for the center chair, "Helm – assuming the convoy continues along the vector Hound flight is following – is there anything out that way?"

Ensign Zephyr turned around, "About five light years ahead of Hound flights current position is a fairly large ice crystal field, which stretches quite a ways in all directions, including all the way to the Melcomf nebula the route skirts. It's dense enough that they'd have to drop to sublight speeds to navigate it. It is part of the convoy's normal route…"

"And it provides an excellent place to 'lose' a convoy, should their crews get sloppy." Devin filled in. "Plus, a good escape route – that nebula is pretty big, and tends to mess with long range sensors. Assuming of course, the convoy didn't indeed run into trouble in the field."

"Sir, if I may interject?" Commander Terrik asked.

Devin settled into his chair, and nodded, "What's on your mind Ops?"

"Well sir – the behavior of what we believe to be the convoy doesn't fit any logical explanation we can currently come up with – except that they've been compromised in some fashion. This is supposedly a standard convoy, not a covert operation or some sort – even if we aren't told the contents – so hiding the warp trail doesn't fit the profile. I would argue that hiding one's warp signature makes any potential pirates who might mange to wander across it even more interested, and I'm certain Starfleet wouldn't want that. So, I have to wonder, who would have the ability to capture an escorted convoy in the middle of Federation space, without anyone knowing about it?" Terrik stated, making a logical conclusion to what had been thus far, a goose chase.

"That's a good point and an excellent question Ops." Devin responded, and was about to continue but was interrupted by Ensign Zephyr, "Sir, we've hit the deadline for following the fighters. Proceed as ordered?"

Devin tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair, and then nodded, "Go ahead Helm – but restrict to Warp 2. I want to see what else our 'hounds' can find, and the longer we stay off the radar of whomever we're following the better."

"Aye sir, engaging course – Warp 2 only." The Ensign responded.

As the bridge crew watched the stars on the main view elongate into streaks as the ship jumped to Warp, the turbolift opened on the bridge and Lieutenant Fero stepped onto the bridge carrying a PADD and wearing a determined expression.

Glancing over her shoulder Caroline caught sight of the Chief Counselor, "Lieutenant, it looks to me like you have something."

"Yes ma'am. If I may take a minute of the Captain's time?" Melissa asked

Devin indicated the empty seat to his left – Caroline had claimed the station to his immediate right as her location – while it was completely up to the first officer, most first's took the seat to the right of the Captain for tradition's sake. "What have you got for us Lieutenant?"

"Well… there was something odd about the crew roster of the Valley Forge sir... it might be nothing – but it just doesn't stack up." Fero replied as she sat down and handed the Captain one of her PADDs

"The 'Forge was the Sabre on escort, if I recall correctly." Caroline noted as she took a PADD from Fero for herself

The Lieutenant nodded, "Yes, it was. It was escorting the Milspec freighters Dante's Own and Ninth Circle… apparently the military freighter crews have a bit of tradition with naming their ships with various references to Hell. Starfleet of course typically designated them with just a number/letter code, but apparently once a freighter gains a nickname, it sticks."

"Interesting facts Lieutenant…" Devin interrupted, "But where are you going with this?"

"Well sir, my research shows these freighter crews, which are pretty small can be fairly fluid at times – but these two freighters and their crews have been serving the Alpha Centari research station exclusively for some time. Probably to increase security – but the Valley Forge, which has also been serving in the station's primary patrol area for the last eight months, suddenly had almost a complete crew change."

Devin blinked, and cycled through the information on the PADD, "A complete crew swap?"

"Yes sir. The entire senior staff, as well as most of the senior noncoms – a good 2/3s of the crew was rotated out." Melissa clarified.

"So, did they get a different ship?" Caroline inquired; it wasn't unheard of for Starfleet to move an intact and experienced crew to a new ship to work out the bugs.

Melissa shook her head, "No, that was the first thing I thought too. But within a week, almost everyone on the ship got rotated to various positions they had all applied for separately and at different times. The Captain got his shot at an Intrepid class; the First officer was frocked to Captain and is destined for a Sabre of his own. Two of the senior Non-Coms took posts as boot instructors… the list goes on, it's all… very convenient."

"And the crew that replaced them?" Devin asked, as he skimmed the information himself.

"Boring." Melissa replied

"What do you mean by boring?" Caroline asked with a raised eyebrow

"Well… nothing about them is… exemplary in any way. No black marks on any of the records – but no citations of any type either. It's like an entire crew of people who do 'just enough' to get by, and nothing else." Melissa shook her head, "I'm fairly new to the fleet, all things considered, but I spend my days talking to people – reviewing their case history… nobody is this boring. We all have… something that makes us stand out from the masses. For instance – Captain to use you as an example – one of the counseling reports we have on file for you notes that you might have had a slightly unhealthy fixation with a certain aircraft of ancient earth, but after further investigation it was determined to be a healthy outlet for you."

Devin raised an eyebrow, "Lieutenant… I'm hoping you have a point."

"Ah – yes well. This crew has none of those little… touches that make's us people. They're just… dull, boring, uninteresting." Melissa said quickly.

"Camouflage." Caroline stated, "It's a common intelligence trick… but overused like this it stands out like a sore thumb."

Devin glanced at his first officer out of the corner of his eye, a few of the 'sealed' sections of Caroline's record making a little more sense now. "So what we have here is?"

"Hard to say sir – if it is some sort of Intel op, like the Commander noted, I don't see what the point is. And if it's not – well – I can't believe so many people could possibly be this boring, and it's just so… convenient."

Devin nodded, making his decision. "I believe the Valley Forge's classification just changed… Ops, take us to Yellow Alert and sound General Quarters – then give me a ship wide broadcast."

"Yellow Alert, aye – Sounding general quarters now." On the decks below the bridge, a long warble went out across the ship's intercom speakers – letting the crew know to be up and ready to man their combat stations. Engineers headed for Main engineering to form repair parties. Med techs flooded sickbay to set up triage points, Security personnel moved to pre-determined points on the ship – and set up armed guard posts. Everyone had a job during general quarters.

A few moments later the sounding ended and Terrik glanced at Devin and nodded, indicating he had an open channel to the entire ship.

Standing from his command chair he glanced around the bridge once, taking in the looks of his senior staff, and the view of the bridge awash in yellow highlights used to indicate the current alert status. "All hands, this is the Captain. As many of you are aware – we have been dispatched to recover a military convoy. It has come to our attention that the convoy's escort – the USS Valley Forge may have been compromised. To this end we will remain at general quarters until we have determined the location and status of the convoy. We may be forced to engage one of our own ships in combat. To this end, the rules of engagement are changing slightly. All fighter craft and LCs are cleared to defend themselves with whatever force they deem necessary if they believe they are threatened. Stay sharp people, and we'll get through this smoothly. That is all."

Terrik indicated with a quick gesture that he had cut the shipwide feed.

Turning towards Commander Tai Devin ordered, "Commander, open a channel to Hound flight for me."

"Yes sir. One moment – I'll pipe it to your Command VCom." Kim replied, tapping in a few commands, "Hound Flight, this is Home Plate. Stand by for Actual."

Flipping open a small compartment mounted in his Command chair Devin pulled out a VCom and slipped it over an ear. Getting the nod from Commander Tae he tapped the activation control on his command chair and then straightened and turned back to the main viewer before speaking, "Hound Flight this is Actual."

"Hound Lead copies Actual. Hounds and Horsemen have their ears open."

"Hound Lead, we have determined the source of the neutrino interference is likely the convoy ahead of you attempting to cover its tracks. Use the neutrino trail to track them down. Our Science officer will send you a recalibration setting for your array to make this easier."

"Understood Actual – we have a trail."

"Correct. It is also believed that the USS Valley Forge may be hostile. To this end we need more information. There is a large ice field ahead of you that the convoy will need to slow to sublight speeds for. Exit Warp as close to the field as you can, and then attempt to shadow the Valley Forge and the freighters. Keep your sensor and telemetry data piping back to us, we're currently following your flightpath – but we'll hang back so as to not alert the 'Forge."

"Lead copies Actual. Are the current ROEs still in effect?"

"Negative. You are weapons free to engage if threatened. You are authorized to fire first in this regard but avoid kill shots to the convoy if possible. Understood Hound Flight?"

"Ah… classify threatening Home Plate."

"If any ship attempts a firing solution, you are cleared to engage – no shots need be fired." Devin responded quietly.

"Hound flight copies, mission parameters have been altered to shadowing the convoy and avoiding detection and engagement while providing intelligence for Home Plate. Hound Flight is authorized to engage if detected and if any ships indicate hostilities…"

"Actual copies and agrees. Keep Home Plate informed. Actual out."

* * *

"Well this is getting interesting." Rice mused over intercom 

"Sure, if your trigger finger is itchy." Quark retorted, "Looks like the Captain has opened up the early round to us though, how you want to play it boss?"

"Let's pick up some speed. You get that optimization program from Ranger yet?" Rice answered as she brought up her primary Nav program, the ice field in question was less then four light years away now.

"Yah, I'm just getting it loaded up. Ohh... that's much better on the ears" Quark sighed, "Hound Four indicates they've finished loading as well."

"Great. Ok WEPS, plot me a course from the edge of the field to a good hidey hole where we can peek out at things, with a low chance of being spotted." Rice ordered as she keyed in a channel to the Flight, "Ok Hounds and Huntsmen, here's the game plan. We're accelerating to Warp 8 on my mark. Ready… MARK."

Matching orders to action Rice keyed in the speed change, and the warp counter started clicking up smoothly until it reached Warp 8, "Ok. Now that we're moving – in about 2 minutes we're going to drop out on top of an ice field – we're going in passive, and going to try to find and shadow the convoy – see if we can figure out what's going on. Use your laser based comm systems so we stay as passive as possible. Once we find a good hidey hole, four and myself are going to deploy our little friends for a closer look. Range out in your wing pairs, don't get seen and report what you find. Understood?"

"Huntsmen Copy" was the replied from Huntsman Lead

"Hounds Copy boss" came the reply from Hound Four.

"Let's get it done people. Stay sharp – we're way out on the pointy end right now – exiting Warp in sixty seconds." Rice ordered before switching to intercom again, "Ok WEPS – everything to passive, we want to be nice and quiet when we go a-visiting."

"All sensors to passive boss – we're running silent."

"Good, time to go hunting."


	8. It All Begins to Unravel

The eight fighters of Hound flight dropped out of warp, a scant kilometer from the edge of the ice field. Breaking into pairs they throttled up and entered what almost looked like a comet gravy yard. Full of shards and huge asteroid sized pieces of frozen material, the field's navigation hazards were numerous, and since it was on a fairly well used space lane – Starfleet often sent a small group of 'cutter' ships through to clear the floating debris from the most used path. Each wing pair began picking a path through the floating debris, off the main channel to hopefully break up their sensor return, ice fields were notoriously noisy on long and medium range sensors, and coupled with the fighter's small mass taking a much more ice dense route meant that they should be hard spot. Of course, the same was true for the convoy – though less so, considering the mass of the ships involved.

After about five minutes of picking their way through the ice field, Lieutenant Commander Josephina 'Josey' Rice reduced throttle to a crawl and keyed a channel to her group, "Hound Flight, this is lead. We're in far enough that we can deploy our little friends. Huntsmen, feel free to range about a bit, but stay fairly close – things could get hairy without much warning. Hounds, stick with your wingman."

"Huntsmen copy. We'll range a little and see if we can't have a bit of a skirmish line. Keep us in the loop."

"Will do Hunt Lead, Hound Four, you remember to drop a repeater buoy?" Rice asked

"Roger Lead – clean comms to the buoy – we're still quiet." Hound Four replied

Rice nodded, a gesture completely wasted on voice transmissions, but a habit anyway, "Good – time to deploy the ROVERs."

"Copy Lead – go for ROVER deployment - will copy Home Plate on telemetry feed."

"Good. From here on our maintain radio silence except for critical transmissions, Hound Lead out." Rice finished, and then flipped to intercom, "Ok WEPs how's our little friend doing?"

"Everything's green boss, ROVER one launched clean, I'm leaving ROVER two in reserve." Quark responded from the back seat.

Josey nodded to herself, and settled into wait, keying the Hawk's autopilot to keep a hundred meter clearance from all navigational hazards, she brought up the ROVER telemetry feed on her primary MFD.

ROVER stood for Remote Observation Vehicle – Elint/Recon. About three quarters the size of a standard torpedo, the ROVER was basically a cut down sensor probe, designed specifically to be deployed by the Hawk-R, it was a low observable platform which could be used to snoop, or equipped properly provide a forward jamming array, in a pinch. Each R model was capable of carrying and deploying six of the little recon units, but the pair of R models in this op were only carrying two a piece. The ROVERs were stored in the Hawk's internal bay, and due to the operational needs, the rest of the belly bay had been loaded with quantum torpedoes. The four external hardpoints on each Hawk-R's stubby wings loaded six more standard yield photon torpedoes, three to a pylon on the inboard hardpoints, while the two outboard hardpoints sported what was being called the 'rocket pods.'

Designed in a similar manner to the rocket pods carried by aircraft of both ancient Earth and other planets – the rocket pods were each loaded with twenty five, small low yield photon missiles, all which lacked a guidance package – and instead packed a slightly heavier warhead then the fighter to fighter missiles carried by the Eagles. The photon 'rockets' were completely dumbfire – but weapons tests had shown that if ripple fired into a target's shields – the repeated strikes, while not powerful by themselves were sometimes enough to cause the shields to fail on a quadrant for a few precious seconds – allowing heavier weapons fire to slip past. On this mission, only Hound Lead, and Hound Four carried the rocket pods – so if it came time to deploy weapons, they would take the lead against any heavy targets, while Hounds two and three lagged behind to loose torpedo shots at the sections of hull exposed by the downed shields.

The standard Hawks, by comparison, were loaded to the gills with torpedoes. Six quantum torpedoes were racked on a rotary launcher in the internal belly bay, to make them slightly more difficult to detect before they were deployed – while a full ten standard yield photon torpedoes hung on their external hardpoints.

The four Eagles carried the lightest load out sporting only paired pulse phaser cannons and eight anti fighter photon missiles. But their job was simply to escort their larger and heavier brethren – providing cover from any fighter class threats, and harrying any capital class targets.

A few minutes later Quark piped up on intercom, "I've got some intermittent heat signatures ahead of ROVER One, looks like weapons fire… maybe."

"Ok. Take ROVER in closer, we'll follow in trail. Send a text alert to the other fighters and toss an update to Home Plate while you're at it. Line of sight only – I don't want to alert the target." Josey replied over the intercom.

"Roger boss. Message going out now… and I'm getting a green response from all ships. We're ready to move out. Hound Four is angling their ROVER in on our possible target." Quark responded after a moment

Josey nodded to herself and pushed the throttle forward, accelerating the fighter bomber smoothly as she navigated around the ice shards – there was no reason yet to hurry, and she didn't want to have to worry about dodging weapons fire, and asteroids if she could help it. They were another few minutes trailing the ROVER drones when Quark keyed his intercom again, "Umm…Boss… you should see this."

"One sec WEPs…" Josey stated before flipping to a live channel, even with directional transponders, it was a risk… but she felt she needed to take it, "Hound Flight. All stop."

The response was seven mic clicks. Indicating all had heard the command and were obeying. Matching her own order she throttled back to idle and watched the speed indicator on her HUD slide down to zero; that done – she flipped back to Intercom, "Ok, what have you got Quark?"

"I'm piping the image to your MFD now – this is live off ROVER One. ROVER Two is getting a similar shot, different angle. I'm sending this to Ranger priority one."

"What the…" Josey started, as she looked down at her MFD

* * *

"…Hell is that?" Devin growled as he looked at the live feed from one of the ROVERs up on the main monitor. Without waiting for an answer he continued, "Terrik, can you enhance the upper left quadrant?"

"Yes sir. The ROVERs don't have the best optics, but I think I can clean it up. The main image is pretty easily defined though…" Terrik responded as he started to input commands into his console

"That's definitely a Sabre class, with two Milspec freighters in tow via tractor beam. We got lucky if he's been dragging them all this way – that much mass would definitely slow down a Sabre." Caroline opined.

Devin nodded as he waited for Terrik to enhance portion of the image he most wanted to see. He was getting a sinking feeling in his gut about this, however – whatever that image was – they still needed a confirmation. Looking over his shoulder he spoke, "Tai – Flash message to Hound Flight – confirm ID of Convoy, and close to within strike distance."

"Aye sir – flash message away…. Hound Lead responds message received and understood." Kim responded, a few moments later

"Helm – drop us out of Warp and alter course – I want an intercept point with that object that Terrik is clarifying for me. Bring up the fighter's telemetry on the main viewer, if you would." Devin ordered.

"Dropping out of Warp," Ensign Zephyr replied

"Fighter telemetry overlay up on the main viewer now." Kim piped up as she brought her overlay view up on the main viewer

Rising out of his chair Devin walked up next to the Helm console as he studied the readout, "Mr Zephyr, does it look to you like the unknown is about two hundred kilometers from the Melcomf nebula?"

"Hmm… About that sir… you think that's an escape route?" the Ensign replied

"I do. Plot us a course that will drop us behind the unknown, where the nebula and the ice field meet." Devin stated

"One minute here… ok, I've got it – course laid in." Zephyr said, glancing up at the Captain.

Devin nodded, still lost in thought about the unknown for a moment, "Good. Engage Warp eight. I want to be over there, now."

To Devin's right Commander Terrik looked up, "I've done the best I can sir – but – this is fairly odd sir."

"Put it on the main viewer." Devin ordered.

"Done."

The entire bridge stared at the image on the monitor. It appeared to be a Federation ship, by configuration, but was a bit more square and boxy then most current designs. Commander Nyes spoke first, "What… is that?"

"It looks like… but it can't be." Commander Tai chimed in

Devin shook his head, "You're right, it shouldn't be – but that's the profile of the Nimitz."

"Sir?" Caroline asked

"NXCV-1" Devin filled in, "The prototype test bed that most of the new technology that makes up the Ranger's launch and retrieval systems was tested and perfected on. Shortly after the Ranger's keel was laid down they moved on to testing a newer warp core design that was supposed to be even less damaging to subspace then the newest models. There was some sort of catastrophic failure and the ship was reported lost – with all hands."

"Then… what is it doing out here?" Caroline asked, somewhat dumbstruck

"That – is a fine question Commander, and one I think we might get a chance to answer. Tai – pull the Angel's from the forward launch roster – we're going to want to be ready to kick our full compliment out the front door as fast as we can. We'll launch the Angel off the retrieval deck as the first CAT shots are firing - Gold and Red squadrons out first to fill out our Hound Flight, with the 'Cards and Reavers out after as quickly as possible to support." Devin said as he headed back to his command chair

"Aye sir – sending the orders now," Kim responded.

"Three minutes to destination Captain." Ensign Zephyr reported from the helm

Settling back into his Command chair Devin nodded, "Everyone on your toes – this could get prickly."

* * *

"Hound flight. Move to perimeter positions around target convoy - but stay quiet." Josey ordered as she continued to nudge her fighter bomber through the ice field, they were closing fairly rapidly on the Convoy – that Sabre helmsman had to be struggling to keep that much mass moving in one direction without making too many course changes. The TAC officer was probably having a field day with all the phaser fire they were laying down to clear a path, "Ok WEPS – what's the word on the ROVERs?"

"They're just about to make a pass under the convoy. I've got them running completely silent – full coast – all sensors passive. They're ghosts – for all intents and purposes." Quark stated over intercom.

"Good. Let me know what you find." Josey stated as she flipped back over to the squadron channel and risked another transmission, "Hound flight, all stop – we're just outside the channel they're blazing and they won't get much farther before we get the word. Everyone stay frosty – we might need to be shooting shortly."

Seven mic clicks answered her as she throttled back, out her cockpit canopy she could clearly see the Sabre class frigate towing the two mammoth haulers. It was almost comical – except for the circumstances.

"Sensor data coming in from ROVER one and two Boss…" Quark piped up over intercom, "Both freighters are on emergency power only – and barely have sustained life support. Five life signs detected on each freighter – but they're very faint, probably unconscious."

"Pipe what you got back to Ranger WEPS. They're going to want to know." Josey replied as she tapped her fingers idly on the control stick – she hated waiting.

* * *

"Sir, update from Hound flight – Transponders confirmed on all three convoy vessels – the freighters are operating on emergency power and bare minimum life support – five life signs per freighter – all very faint." Kim reported

"Let sickbay know – any reports of damage to the freighters?" Devin asked

"Negative sir – no external signs as to why they're only on emergency power, or why the Sabre's crew didn't transport the freighter crews aboard – the ROVERs can't give you more information without giving away their locations." Kim informed the Captain.

Terrik glanced back from his console at Ops, "Sir – I may have a theory."

"Go ahead," Devin replied with a nod.

"If the crew of the Valley Forge does indeed have hostile intent, which is currently the only explanation that appears to fit with the evidence – the easiest way for them to take the freighters without any struggle would be to use a system override via command codes and introduce a virus into the freighter's main computer. Safety locks would keep them from keeping main power online, and bleeding off life support to bare minimums – so it could be that they've made the main computer believe that a warp core incident was imminent and forced a shutdown of the warp core – and then bled power from life support to the current levels so it would be barely sustainable until they got to their location." The Vulcan paused for a moment, "It seems somewhat fantastical sir – but it's the only logical answer I can come up with at this time, with the given data."

"Sir – thirty seconds from Warp exit." Ensign Zephyr piped up.

"Terrik – scramble our command codes as a precaution. Tai – have all fighter and support craft do the same." Devin paused a moment and glanced at Caroline, "Commander – if you have a suggestion as to how we're going to avoid a fight with our own ships, I'd love to hear it."

Caroline just shook her head.

"I was afraid of that." Glancing over at Lieutenant Fero who was still sitting in the chair to his left Devin said, "Let me know if you have any flashes of insight, eh Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Fero nodded her face tight.

"Ten seconds." Zephyr interjected

"Commander Tai – flash Hound flight – on go signal, deny the Valley Forge her charges, and attempt to disable if possible. Vertung, open a wide band hail as soon as we drop." Devin stated.

A moment later the USS Ranger dropped into normal space inside the Melcomf nebula and gracefully turned towards the ship Devin had identified as the Nimitz and the wayward convoy – closing the distance at full impulse power.

"Channel open sir," Sol reported from his location at Tactical.

"This is Captain Devin O'Connor of the USS Ranger to the USS Valley Forge and unknown Federation vessel – you are hereby ordered to stand to and await our arrival by orders from Starfleet Command. Please acknowledge – this is not a request." Devin stated flatly as he watched the image on the main viewer grow larger as his ship closed on the other vessels. If he was lucky, they would do as he ordered and they could sort this whole mess – there could be, he supposed in the most hopeful reaches of his mind, a perfectly good explanation for all of this… Of course he might also learn how to breathe in a vacuum some day too.


	9. Bloodied

Josey's fingers drummed against the control stick of her fighter/bomber restlessly – less then two minutes ago they'd received their flash orders from the Ranger – but no go signal. Her flight – Hound flight, which had pulled elements from both Red and Gold squadron's – the ships most definitely rookie groups had crept to nearly within torpedo range of the Valley Forge, which now she was considering a target. While this wasn't her going to be her first combat sortie – or even her first in command of a flight – it was her first combat sortie in command of a squadron – and she was somewhat nervous.

She fully expected the Ranger to launch the rest of her squadron, that being Gold – along with Red to support her flight. Two months ago – safely in place as the Assistant Squadron Commander of the Reavers – she hadn't any doubts.

But now – with a bunch of wet behind the ears baying for their mother's nuggets at her back she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. Even her Weapons officer – Ensign Quark – was new.

And while she felt she'd done all she could to gel them into a fighting unit – she realized that if push came to shove – she was going to have to find out the hard way, like every commanding officer in a combat situation before her. It was not an overly pleasant feeling.

Josey's musings were interrupted by an abrupt transmission in her ear. "Homeplate to Hounds – Run. I say again Run. All Fox are to be considered hostile."

Jamming her throttle forward without a moments pause, Josey keyed her mic. "Hound Two, Lead is linebacker. Three and Four stack up."

Mic clicks confirmed her communication, and she continued, "Huntsmen you're on cover."

Flipping over to intercom she spoke, her voice falling into short, clipped tones as it always did as her adrenaline started to pump, "WEPs. Full spectrum directional ECM on the Valley Forge – let me know if they start painting us."

"Rog boss." Quark replied in her ear.

They both had their hands full now as Josey whipped their fighter around the last of the large frozen asteroids between them and the Valley Forge, and started darting at full combat power through the lighter chaff that separated them from their target. Two seconds behind them came Hound Two. With Hound Three and Four another five seconds behind that.

The tactic they were employing required the lead ship – or linebacker – to make a very close pass on the enemy vessel – strafing with phaser cannons and photon rocket pods. Two seconds behind the second fighter bomber would loose a salvo of heavier ordinance – anywhere from a pair of torpedoes to a ripple fire of up to the full ten on the external hardpoints – depending on distance to target and firepower expected to be needed. The first ship's job was to weaken, or even drop the target's shields – leaving them open and bare to the second's fire.

This of course – also meant that the first ship had a tendancy to pull a lot of fire from the target – but there was little that could be done about that. It was a tried and true tactic that had been used to excellent effect during the War.

It had also gotten a lot of fine pilots and crews killed. Josey didn't plan on being one of them.

"We're at optimal torpedo range." Quark chimed in behind her.

"Hang on, this is going to get interesting WEPs." Josey replied as she kicked all discretionary power to her engines, the heavy fighter accelerating once more as she continued her random twisted path down at the Valley Forge. A moment later she heard the early warning warble in her headset and stomped on the right rudder pedal, throwing her fighter sideways as she overrode the compensation thrusters momentarily and sent her fighter in a perpendicular direction to her original line of flight as a line of phaser fire blew through the space they'd been in a moment before.

"I'd say they don't like us much boss." Quark grunted from the back seat

Rolling the fighter back hard, Josey brought them back on course – she only had to close another two kilometers before she was within firing range for her rocket pods. "Hang on WEPs – I'm gonna make you bleed."

Josey's taunt was not completely in jest – while the fighters carried the exact same type of inertial compensation found on all Starfleet vessels – to better feel what was going on in their environment – one where death could be a hairs breath distant fighter pilots dialed back their inertial compensators – leaving them somewhat susceptible to the extreme g-forces some of their maneuvers could generate. The Weapons Officer on the Hawk fighters sat farther back – and as all back seaters before them, bore even more brunt then the pilots. More then a few had succumbed to a blackout – though in her time flying with him Quark had not. He did however tend to bleed copiously from the ears.

The range numbers flashed down and Josey flicked a switch on her throttle, bringing up the Hawk's primary targeting systems. The rocket pods were already selected, and the targeting piper popped up on her hud – a tight round crosshair that floated in her vision, correcting for motion of the craft. A second square popped up – indicating her target area on the Valley Forge.

Another line of phaser fire shot by – this one close enough light their shields. So far the tight cone of ECM they were generating was doing its job. But the closer they got to the frigate – the less useful it would be. Slewing the fighter a bit with her rudder pedals Josey lined up her shot – and when the range tone sounded in her ear she mashed her thumb against the pickle, her ordinance trigger, and squeezed the gun trigger on the stick at the same time.

Twenty five photon rockets per side ripple fired in less then two seconds off her wings accompanied by the direct fire of her fighters linked forward pulsed phaser cannons. The shields on the Valley Forge lit up against the sudden onslaught, the repeated strikes falling within a very small area – and like a striker against tempered glass, the shields shuddered, and momentarily, failed.

A heartbeat later Josey yanked her fighter into a bank, and hauled back on the stick as if her life depended on it. The heavy fighter strained as Josey over-rode the compensation thrusters, forcing the back end of her fighter to skid around in and even tighter loop as she pointed them back the way they came. Phaser fire lanced by her fighter twice, closer then before and she heard the shield level warning start to warble as her fighter streaked back the way it came, just as a pair of bright red stars, photon torpedoes fired by Hound Two sizzled past, almost close enough to reach out and touch before they slammed into their target just before the Valley Forge's shields could recover their strength.

Behind her, the tractor beams attaching the Valley Forge to the two heavy freighters stuttered, and then disappeared. The torpedoes had hit their mark. More phaser fire – concentrated now, as the Valley Forge's crew better understood the threat of the small ships arrayed against them sizzled through space around the Hawk as Josey worked hard to make them as hard a target to hit until they could get back into the cover of the asteroid field.

"How we doing back there WEPs?" Josey asked as the phaser fire started to die away – the Huntsmen had made a strafing run against the Valley Forge's softened shields. Not overly useful – but it drew fire as intended as Hounds Three and Four lined up for their run – Hawk Lead and Two had gotten the soft run – the latter pair were bound to get heavier fire.

There was an edge of a whine in Quarks voice as he responded after a minute or so, his breathing hard, "I'm going… to be cleaning blood out of my lobes for a week after this… boss."

"Such a beautiful mental image…" Josey responded with a slight smirk, as she slid her fighter behind an ice asteroid and throttled back, bringing up her tactical display – Hound 2 slid in beside her.

Quark snickered, "You could always help."

Josey was about to retort when her comm crackled to life, "Gold Leader – this is Homeplate – Red and Gold squadrons are launching now – but we've got unfriendlies inbound. You are re-tasked on the enemy carrier vessel. Assault and disable or destroy as nessasary. Reavers and the 'Cards are being prepped and will be off the deck ASAP – but until then you are our fist. Go to work."

"Gold leader copies." Josey replied as she continued to eyeball her tactical display before calling orders. Suddenly Gold Six – formerly Hound Four dropped off her display.

"Gold Six, this is lead – report."

"Four to Lead – Six is out. Forge got them. Glancing shot – I think they're Echo Victor, but I'm not reading a beacon." Came the response from Six's wingman

"Report on the Forge, Four – and join my wing." Josey ordered as she throttled up, they still had work to do – and she had to join up with the rest of her squadron.

"Six dumped ten photons and two quantums on the Forge before pulling out – its what got them killed sir. But the Forge is now down her starboard impulse engine and gutting plasma from both warp nacelles - she's not going anywhere for a while, but she's still got weapons." Gold Four reported calmly – as the Hawk slid in beside Josey's fighter to port

Josey didn't even pause, "Gold Lead to Homeplate, we've lost Six. Possible Echo Victor. No Bravo. Requesting Angels."

"Homeplate copy's Angels have been alerted and tasked - might be a bit though – things are getting a little interesting over here – light the fires and get over here."

"Lead copies, ETA to target is two minutes. Leave some for us."

"We've got plenty. Homeplate out."

"How fast can we get the 'Cards out the door?" Devin asked as he watched the display in front of him. The sixteen fighters that made up the majority of Red and Gold squadrons was fast approaching a larger group of older, but just as deadly Peregrines. Out numbered was never a good way to start a first engagement.

Tai looked up from her tactical telemetry display, "The Cards and Reavers are behind the LCs in the launch order. It'd take about five minutes, maybe ten to re-arrange everything."

"Negative. Kick the LCs off the deck – and send them on their missions." Devin decided in a heartbeat. It was a risk – the LCs were big fat targets without a proper escort, but he needed the expertise of the Wildcards and the Reavers in there air to bolster the nuggets out there about to be fighting for their lives.

"Sir? That's going to leave them all alone out there – and the weapons on the Valley Forge aren't completely out of commission from all reports."

"No choice – we need those fighters out there to support. Those Peregrines aren't pushovers…." Devin paused a moment, "Terrik – run a scan. I want to know if those Perries are standard configuration or not."

"One moment." The Vulcan Ops Chief responded, "One squadron's worth… is. The other… appears to have an extended cockpit and has photon torpedoe's slung under the wings."

"We've got trouble then. Tae – Retask half of Gold with CAP." Devin ordered as he stood up. "Mr Zephyr – intercept course on the Nimitz. Perpendicular to his current course to give us as much time away from those damned Peregrines as possible."

"Aye sir. Coming about." Zephyr replied quickly

Tae frowned, "Gold squadron isn't loaded out for anti-fighter, and they'd have to drop their stores to lower the ship's overall mass to even hope to beable to fly with those Peregrine's sir."

"Do it. We need more anti-fighter assets, now. If those modified Perigrines get within optimal firing range unhindered, we're going to have a very bad day." Devin ordered as he mentally projected an optimal plane on their current course and trajectory. If the Peregrine's pushed – they'd be in good firing range within two minutes, maybe less.

"Aye Captain, re-tasking as ordered. Half of Gold squad is to be re-tasked with anti-fighter duty – their target will be the enemy bombers to give them a better shooting chance. Red squadron will escort the remaining Gold's on a run against the Nimitz." Tae responded.

"Good. Mr Vertung, you are weapons free on any enemy fighters you can get a clear shot on. Once we're in weapons range of the Nimitz – limit to disabling fire if possible. Use your discretion." Devin ordered as he returned to his command chair. Things were about to get tense on his end. He'd given his orders – and now a lot of young men and women were going to have to carry them out. It was not the first time he'd put people in harms way – but it was never easy to just sit back and watch.


End file.
